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J± OOME^OY 



BY- 



Dr. HENRY CRAIGIE 






A 



SAN FRANCISCO, CAL 



H 



l^ 



^ ^ 



K. MUNK'S Print. 

805 Mission Street, 

1894. 












Copyrighted 
by 

I)i\ IIknhy CllAIGIK. 
1891. 



T.MP92-008954 



DOUGALL AND FRIENDS, 

A COMEDY. 



PERSONS REPRESENTED. 

Dougall Livingstone A Gardener in good circumstances 

Dudley Newlle Smythe, A Dude with Brains 

Jock Allen, A Rich Jollv Farmer 

Bill Burnside County Clerk and Capt. of Volunteers 

Zack Ferris, Landlord of Golden Dreams and loudest laugher in America 

Tom Johnson, Frequently Drunk 

Pierre Gregoire A French Canadian 

Col. King of the 55TH Battalion Volunteers, 

Sandy Black, Dougall's Assistant Gardener 

Maggie Allen-, The Life and Terror of Leeds 

Jennie Allen Maggie's Sister 

Phemie Livingstone, Dougall's Sharp Tongued Wife 

Miss Agnes Blair Jock's Prim Sister-in-Law 

Victoria A Little Girl 

Neighbors, Volunteers and Others. 

ACT I. 

SCENE I. 

Dougall's Garden at Leeds. A Typical Garden of North Temperate Zone, 
devoid of Tropical Plants. The side of Cottage showing, with vines climbing 
over it. Down centre of garden a wide path leads to the gate that opens to a path 
through field beyond Outside of this gate is one tall elm tree. All over fence 
that surrounds the garden are growing wild roses. Flowers of various sorts on 
either side of path. A wide path crosses the garden about centre. At the junction 
of the two paths is a huge block, on which is a sundial with large roman numbers 
marking the hours. Enter Dougall and Phemie. 

Phemie. Hoots mon Dougall. Will ye ne'er mend your ways? Eve<y 
ither day coming hame in a beastly state o' intoxication. 

Dougall. I'm no in a beastly state o' intoxication. I'm only gloriously 
exhiliarated, as a guid Scots should be on the anniversary o' the fa o' the 
Bastile; hooray! My freend Pierre Gregoire and meself hae been drinkin 
a day and a night tae the confusion o' the monarchy and the everlasting 
weel of the people. 



4 DOUGALL AND FRIENDS 

Phemie. What has a Scotchman got tae do wi the French Monarchy, 
or the French People? I tell ye Dougall lam grateful 1 tae providence that 
there are nae mair nations on earth and consequently nae mair national 
holidays for you tae become exhiharatcd on. Ye little ken how it hurts me 
pride tae see ye laughing and joking wi men who pat ye on the back and 
shout "weel done Dougall" when wi me own ears 1 hae heard those 
same men say "here comes the auld Glascow bummer, Dougall." Hoots 
mon Dougall ye hae nae mair pride than those North American Chinamen 
ye hae been celebrating wi. 

Doigall. Wham do ye ca Chinamen? 

Phemie. Those French Canadians, they live on pea soup and brown 
bread and work for next tae naething and board themselves and talk half- 
breed gibberish that nae Frenchman could understan. 

Dougall. Phemie your lack o' christian charity and unkind remarks 
aboot me freends, grieve me mair nor ye'er lack o' patriotism. I hae 
leestened tae Pierre recount the sufferings o' the people o' France under the 
cruel Monarchy and wept o'er their meesery. And when Pierre ordered 
another Hot Scotch, I wept o'er the toddy and meesery togither. 

{Enter Tom Johnson.) Tom. Good morning neighbors, Mrs. 
Livingstone I need not ask you how you are. I see you looking bright 
and sharp as usual. 

Phemie. What business o' yours is it whether I look sharp, or no? I'll 
be blunt enough tae tell ye that ye and ye'er sort are no wanted here. 
One drunken creature is enough around these gardens. 

Tom. Madam! Dear Madam, you do me wrong so to misjudge me. 
Why, next to yourself I am Dougall 's guardian angel. Only last night I 
found him overcome and lying by the wayside, with his tired head resting 
on a rock. Did I pass him bye on the other side and scorn to assist him? 
No madam, most emphatically no! I said, he is my friend, he is a brother 
man. I will follow the Golden Rule. That stone is too hard for my friend's 
head. Madam what did 1 do? I went to the nearest woodshed and picked 
a spruce block, mind you madam, not a maple, nor birch; nor any hard 
wood; but a nice soft spruce block and gently raising my friend's head I 
inserted the block beneath. I did not wake him thank Heaven, for I know 
from the elephantine smile that illuminated his whole face, that he dreamed 
of the days when everyone shook and never a one was broken. I had been 
here mvself. Ask Dougall if I am not worthy to be called his friend. 



A COMEDY BY DR. HENRY CRAIGIE 5 

Dougall. True for ye Tarn, I'm no ungrateful, I hae the very words 
tae fully explain tae the gentle partner o' me bosom; how you and I feel 
towards each ither Tarn. 

Wha taks me from me little bed, 
And gently leads me tae the shed; 
And puts a bottle tae me head? 

Tam Johnson'. 

Wha when me head feels like a lump. 
Will quickly place me neath the pump; 
And treat me like a temperance chump? 
Tam Johnson. 

Tam. Dougall you have explained the tie that binds us. Now Mrs. 
Livingstone we are going to have a glorious entertainment at the Dominion 
celebration to-morrow night. There is to be a conclave of all nations to 
show the good stock that Canada has sprung from, and as Dougall is the 
finest specimen from Scotland, in this county; you'll not object to us 
borrowing him for the occasion. 

Phemie. Dougall the finest Scotch specimen, where is Jock Allen? 

Tom. ]ock Allen, why Dougall can drink a gallon to his pint. Anyway 
Jock cracks jokes and makes witty remarks. Nobody would believe him 
to be Scotch. 

Dougall. Yes Euphemia, I hae the seriousness and dignity and absence 
o' a frivolity, as becomes a great race that has blessed the warld wi Burns 
and Scott and haggis and Hot Scotch and Wallace and the greatest Land- 
scape Gardeners the warld ever saw. 

Phemie. Ye can gang awa tae Inverness wi them Dougall, but gie me 
ye'er solemn promise no tae tak mair nor twelve glasses o' liquor while ye 
are gane. 

Dougall. Oh! Come now Phemie that's no fair. There are mair nor 
twelve nations tae be represented and besides there might be an oncore. 
Ca it twa dozen. 

Phemie. Nae Dougall I ken ye'er capacity better than yerself. A dozen 
and nae mair. 

Tom. (aside) Call it a go Dougall we'll give you a fish globe to drink 
out of. 

Dougall. Phemie my great admiration for ye maks me consent, 
although I ken that I'll gie grevious offense tae the nations that I dinna 
drink wi. 



6 DOUGALL AND FRIENDS 

(Dougall and Tom walk down through the garden where Sandy Burns is 
working.) 

{Enter Sandy.) Phemie. Nice company ye'er maister is in. 

Sandy. Yes mam Mr. Johnson is quite fond o' Mr. Leevingstone and 
has great ail mi rat ion for yarself. 

Phemie. What are ye talking aboot do ye ken what admiration means? 

Sandy. I do mam, ami as they gied awa doon the garden Mr. Johnson 
was saying tae Mr. Leevingstone that he should be prood o' sic a wife, that 
if he were the lucky possessor o' a delicacy like ye he wad keep ye on ice 
where ye wad be cool otherwise ye might melt tae tears. 

Phemie. He said so did he, what did ye'er maister say? 

Sandy. He said it was a weel enough tae pit champagne on ice, but it 
was no the custom tae ice vinegar bitters. 

Phemie. Bitters, iced vinegar bitters! Indeed! Weel when he comes 
home, he'll think that he is getting a dose of boiling bitters with pickles on 
the side. (Exit. P/ietnir.) 

(Dougall and Tom nearing a log on which is a sundial with large roman 
letters representing the time of day.) 

Tom. Hello! What have you here Dougall, the ships log of the Great 
Eastern you claim to have come over in? 

Dougall. Nae, Nae, Tom guess again. 

(A cat is placed on the log by a person hidden behind and made to appear to 
have jumped on.) 

Tom. Oh! I see it is a catalogue you keep of your plants. 

Dougall. (As they get close to dial, pushes cat away.) Mistaken again 
Tom, de ye see noo it is only a seemple dial log, betw-een ye and me, 
(pissing to other side of log.) 

Tom. Hoots mon Dougall, you'li perpetrate a joke and tarnish your 
dignity if ye. are not careful. 

SCENE. II. 

Jock Allen's Home. Jennie and Maggie Allen and Dudley N. Smythe seated 
in Parlor. 

(Enter Jock Al/cn.) Maggie. Mr. Smythe allow me to introduce to 
vou my father. Father let me make yon acquainted with the Honorable 
1 Dudley Neville Smythe, an English srentleman that Jen. and I got acquainted 
with at the Military Ball in Quebec. Mr. Smythe is the new Lieutenant in 
the 55th Battalion. 

f0CK. Happy to make your acquaintance Lieut. Smythe. A certain 
an ol security seems to surround our country when such an acquisition is 
made to her defense. May I ask if you ever belonged to the regulars as 
manv of our volunteer officers hare come from the line. 



A COMEDY BY DR. HENRY CRAIGIE J 

Smythe. Oh! No Mr. Allen, you see I am quite young yet, and in fact 
I prefer not to be called lieutenant. You see I accepted the commssion to 
keep up the military traditions of our family. I am descended from two 
moit illustrious families. Warwick the kingmaker and Leicester. I prefer 
my civil title Hon. Dudley Neville Smythe. The name Smythe of course 
is from my paternal ancestors. While not such an aristocratic sounding 
cognomen as the others which are appended to me, yet it is quite as honor- 
able; the Smythes have been heard of quite often. Though neither Dudley 
nor Neville in name, yet the strain of noble blood has descended just the 
same. 

Maggie. (Abide to Jock.) He looks as if the strain had been too much 
for him. 

Jock. (Aside to Maggie.) Yes and the blood must have descended to 
his feet, as there don't seem to be much in the rest of his carcass. 

Jock. Welcome Hon. Mr. Smythe, will you have a little Scotch Toddy, 
or a glass of brandy and soda. 

Smythe. Oh! No I thank you Mr, Allen none if you please. 

|ock. Then a glass of wine, or how would half and half suit you. 

Smythe. I never drink anything, but soda water plain. 

Jock. Then join me in a smoke. 

Smythe. Oh! No, tobacco is positively offensive to me. 

Jennie. Do you know Mr. Smythe, I often feel sorry that your ancestor 
Warwick should have lived in such a time, think of his horrible death and 
he so brave, in the present age bravery is recognized in an enemy, and he 
is not treated as a felon. 

Smythe. Yes Miss Allen, if he lived now it would be different. 

jock. (Puffing at his pipe.) Yes, we'd electrocute him now, and not 
shed his blood. 

Jennie. Oh! Father! 

Jock. Never mind Mr. Smythe its all over now. Come with me and I 
will show you over the farm and initiate you into the mysteries of stock 
raisii g. I have some Durhams that can trace their ancestry farther back 
than Warwick. [Exit Jock and Smythe.) 

Maggie. Jen., that shadow has eyes for no one but you, why don't 
you entertain him in a manner becoming to the eldest daughter of the house 
of Allen. Allow him to pay his devotions to you. Charlie will not be 
back from Montreal for two months, and for the present you are a sort of 
pre-nuptial widow, so to assuage your grief, amuse yourself with this very 
green, blue-blooded Englishman. 



S DOIGAU. AND FRIENDS 

Jennie. Maggie, I have no desire to deceive any man; or amuse my- 
self at his expense, if as you foolishly surmise, Mr. Smith is in the least 
interested in me. 

Maggie. No harm done my gentle, circumspect sister, just consign him 

to my protection. I will he a stepmother to him. I have no young man 
sighing for me. My auburn hair and artistically doited face, which the 
vulgar call red-headed and freckled, don't seem to be drawing cards in this 
county. 

Jennie. Maggie, it is not your personal appearance, but your sharp 
pointed jokes and sarcasm that make people avoid you. You would sacrifice 
friend, or even lover; for the sake of a practical joke. 

Maggie. Oh! Perhaps a practical joke will get me a lover some time 
anyway I prefer the joke ani freedom; but here comes father shaking with 
laughter and leading that charming idiot by the arm. What can have 
happened? 

Jock. Here girls, smooth this gent's feelings I am in a hurry to keep an 
engagement. 

Jennie and Maggie. Mr. Smythe why are you so agitated. 

Smythe. You see ladies, I went with Mr. Allen to see the stock. I 
admired the cows, nice creatures in red and brown, some of them nearly 
black. And the horses and little colts; just as beautiful and artistic I assure 
vou as if executed by the brush of Landseer, or Rosa Bonheur. And the 
blue sky, with here and there a fleecy cloud make a background to a picture 
that enraptured my artistic soul. 

Jennie. I understand Mr. Smythe, you are in a frenzy of artistic enjoy- 
ment. You are carried away by the farm scene. It is true that rural life 
is beautiful as well as peaceful and romantic. Your agitation does credit 
to your taste. 

Smythe. Pardon me Miss Allen, I was just explaining the situation that 
led to my misfortune. While 'admiring the beautiful I was struck violently 
from the opposite direction to that in which I was looking. On turning 
around I saw a lot of lambs, that is what your father told me they were, one 
of them sprang at me like lighting and knocked me down. Then I knew 
that it was the creature that had hit me. 

Maggie. You say it sprang at you like lightening and struck you again. 
You know Mr. Smythe lightening does not strike twice in the same place. 

Smythe. Neither did the lamb. You see I had turned around before 
the second blow. But lambs are vicious creatures. 

Maggie. Lambs are innocent enough, that was the lambs' papa showing 
off before his family. 



A COMEDY BY DR. HEXRY CRAIGIE 9 

Smythe. The strange creature don't seem to kick, or bite; but just runs 
against one real hard. Does it never bite ? 

Maggie. Oh! No you never need fear hydrophobia from an attack by 
lambs. The mature gentleman lamb, to use the slang phrase, not only 
has a cheek but a whole face and he uses it as a means of offense and 
defense. 

Jennie. Excuse me Mr. Smythe I will say good afternoon. {Exit 
Jennie.) 

Smythe. Mr Allen told me some cows were dangerous, but I never 
dreamed that the little lambs would hurt, such pretty things too. But those 
little puppies, Mr. Allen has given me one of them; only I am not to get 
it until it is old enough to feed by hand. I, say Miss Maggie I notice that 
your sister always leaves the parlor soon after my arrival. 

Maggie. My sister is delicate and the sight of your distress so unnerved 
her that she retired until she becomes more calm. 

Smythe. But when I have previously called, she always excuse 1 herself 
very soon. 

Maggie. I suppose that she understands that two are company; but 
three, etc. 

Smythe. But why should she always consider herself the third party? 

Maggie. You and I monopolize the conversation, so Miss Jen. quickly 
glides away. Suppose you make your verbal attack on her next time and 
see me gracefully withdraw. 

Smythe. I thank you. I am going to take a half-hour's walk and 
will return. {Exit Smythe.) 

Maggie. Humph? He wculd rather see the back of my head in per- 
spective, than admire me within talking distance. But I like fun and I can 
have more fun with him in half an hour, than Jen. can in a year. 

[Enter Phernie.) Phemie. Good morning Maggie. 

Maggie. Good morning Mrs. Livingstone how are you feeiing today? 

Phemie. Weel betwixt overwork, rheumatism and a drunken husband, I 
am feeling nearer the grave than ever. 

Maggie. Bosh! Don't think of such nonsense, Mrs. Livingstone. 
Make Dougall work more and do less yourself. Rub coaloil on your 
rheumatism. And join the cremation society and cheat the grave. 

Phemie. Ye are lighthearted Maggie it is plain tae be seen that ye ne'er 
had tae pit up wi whiskey fumes and a lazy Scotchman day in and day out. 
Wha could mak Dougall wark, it is easier tae do it meself than tae mak 
him do it. 



10 DOL'GALL AND FRIENDS 

Maggie. You don't know how to manage a husband. Don't fool away 
your time coaxing and quoting poetry to him and all that soft nonsense. 
Just take my advice and scold at him continually, drunk, or sober. Throw 
all the kitchen utensils and brie a brae and brickbats at his head. Call 
him a good for nothing drunken Glascow loader, lift him out of the bed by 
the hair, and when he attempts to go out attei supper take his pants off and 
lock them in your bureau drawer. Oh! I just wish I had a few of those 
carousing husbands, I'd discipline them so that they wouldn't kiss even their 
mother-in-law without my leave. 

Phemie. It's easy for girls tae talk. I came tae see if ye could help me 
tae find a nurse for Mr. Logie's little babe, you know it is only three weeks 
old, and its mither was buried tae day. 

Maggie. I thought that you liked to take care of children, are you too 
busy to take the little one yourself? 

Phemie. I hae charge o' the babe, but it needs a special nurse tae tak the 
mither's place at times; and ye'r faither being sae weel acquaint in Quebec, 
I thought perhaps he could easily find one. 

Maggie. I guess that I know just the person you want. A young woman 
came from the city last week to work for us, she has a little infant ot her 
own. No doubt you could get her to assist you when needed. We really 
don't need her ; but she is a poor woman that father wanted to help. Her 
husband was drowned in the St. Lawrence. 

Phemie. Hod old is her babe? 

Maggie. About five weeks. She is a little eccentric, that is, what you 
call queer, and hard to understand, but a good honest woman. She has 
gone on an errand and will be back in about an hour. 

Phemie. I will be back in an hour. {Exit Phemie.) 

[Enter Smythe.) Maggie. Oh! Mr. Smythe will you do me a great, 
great big favor? 

Smythe. Only too happy to do so, I assure you Miss Maggie. 

Maggie. You see I am making a dress for my sister, just a plain every- 
day dress, but she thinks I cannot do anything; so I want to surprise her. 
I have it almost finished, but I am in doubt about certain fixings too numer- 
ous to be mentioned. You aie about Jen's size, and if you would be so obliging 
as to step into that room and remove your outer apparel, and put on the 
dress that you will find on the back of a chair, I will be everlastingly 
obliged to you. 



A COMEDY BY DR. HENRY CRAIGIE I I 

Smythe. Well, Miss Maggie, it is rather a peculiar business; but to help 
you out Til make the attempt to get into the harness. 

[Exit Smythe and te- enter with dress on.) 

Smythe. Oh ! Hang it I can't adjust myself to this outfit. The waist is 
too small for me and it hangs loosely over my lungs. 

Maggie. There are certain things known in feminine art that would 
make that dress fit you better than your skin does. But you are too young to 
know. When you are a big girl you will understand. 

Smythe. It seems to me that if I had a cinch and plumpers they would 
improve my curves. 

Maggie. Your words are peculiar, but your idea is correct. Let me fix 
you up complete, this hat is quite becoming to your features and those colors 
suit your demi-blonde complexion. You look quite charming. If I were 
an old gentleman I would kiss you. (Be// rings.) 

Good gracious! There is the old half-witted woman. I am afraid to be 
alone with her. She has a little puppy that she wants to give to some very 
kind person, who will take particularly good care of it, I told her that a dear 
lady friend of mine would like it. So she said, she would be here to-day at 
three o'clock and ask the lady to meet her. Now you must let me introduce 
you as the lady. I told her that you are very fond of dogs, that you have a 
young one of your own, but would like another. 

(Enter Phemie.) Phemie. Well, Miss Maggie, I am back again. 

Maggie. Mrs. Livingstone this is Mrs. Thompson, Mrs. Thompson, 
Mrs. Livingstone, ladies I have explained to each of you the wishes of each 
other. Please excuse me while you talk the matter over. (Exit Maggie.) 

Phemie. So you have just kem frae the city, I suppose that ye feel lonely 
awa frae the noise and bustle. But then ye hae the little one tae occupy 
yeV attention. 

Smythe. (Aside. I suppose she means Maggie although she's not so 
little.) Yes I am lonely, but as you say Miss Allen is so pleasant that I 
am somewhat cheered up. 

Phemie. I didna mean Miss Allen, I mean the infant the wee nursling, I 
understand that it is only five weeks old and needs of course a great deal of 
attention. Do ye no find it a means o' occupying ye'r time, and a solace as 
it were tae ye? 

Smythe. Oh! Yes the little thing is so comical, young as it is, it cocks 
ud its little ears when I whistle to it, and when I tickle him he rolls over on 
his back and tries to bite my finger. 



I 2 D01GALL AND FRIEXD3 

Phemie. Quite an interesting wee fellow na doubt, I suppose he is per- 
fectly healthy. Do you think that you could properly care for two weout 
detriment tae their health, or yer own? 

Smyth e. Indeed I am sure that I can take care of two as well as one, 
no more trouble I assure you. I once had three to care for. 

Phemie. Three, then you arc used to caring for the young things for 
other people. 

Smythe. No they were all my own, as pretty little sleek, bright-eyed 
fellows as you could wish to set eyes on. You ought to have seen them all 
feeding together, how they did relish warm milk. 

Phemie. Three of them feeding at once, poor woman ye look worn out 
tae a skeleton; but where are they now, did you leave them in the city? 

Sm\the. I gave one to a lady friend of mine. 

Phemie. Gave it away, how could you do so? 

Smythe. Oh! She treats it as if it were her own child. Whenever she 
goes out driving, or walking the little pet goes with her. One of the others took 
sick, the doctor pronounced it incurable. I was most attached to that one, so 
I anticipated death. I chloroformed the dear fellow, and had a taxidermist 
prepare him so that I can always have his form to look at. 

Phemie. Great Heavens, be merciful! Ye chloroformed him and had 
him stuffed, monstrous! 

Smythe. Not at all, not at all I assure you! I had glass-eyes inserted just 
the size of his own pretty, brown ones, and there he lies on the rug near my 
bed, just as natural as life, only silent. 

Phemie. I maun gang noo I was like tae forget that Mr. Leevingstone 
is waiting for me. I am afraid that ye are in loo excited and worrit condition 
tae tak charge o' me little one. 

Smythe. You don't know me madam, I always look thin and pale, but I 
assure you I am all right. 

Phemie. I am afraid that ye hae consumption, and might die and leave 
him tae aniiher's caie. 

Smythe. I give you my word of honor madam, that if I were dying, I 
would unhesitatingly shoot the little fellow dead by my bed-side before I 
expired. 

Phemie. Shoot him dead Mrs. Thompson where were ye raised, or are 
ye a heathen that ye sae deliberatedly talk o' shoolin. 

Smythe. Well you object to chloroform what do you want? I certainly 
will not get up from my death-bed to chase for a river to drown him in. 



A COMEDY BY DR. HENRY CRA1G1E 13 

Phemie. If ye were a believer ye wad ken the commandment. "Thou 
shalt not kill." 

Smythe. Madam, I know the commandment as well as you do. But I 
cannot see where murder comes in for killing a young scotch terrier. 

Phemie. A what! You crazy, in ulting hussy. I'm glad that I foaned 
ye oot afore I had gien me child tae ye'er caie. 

Smythe. Oh! Keep your puppy to scare indians. {Exit Phemie.) 

{Enter Maggie, who has enjoyed the scene from behind the portieres.) 

Maggie. Why Mr. Smythe you seem to have offended Mrs. Livingstone. 

Smythe. She is either crazy, or you have been playing one of your jokes 
on me. 

Maggie. Oh ! My aching sides, it was just too funny, to see you so earn, 
estly trying to explain all about your puppies, while the poor woman was 
trving to tell you about the child she wanted a nurse for. Oh! Dear me, 
father will rupture a bloodvessel, laughing when I tell him. 

Smythe. She wanted a nurse for an infant, and I thought it was a pup, 
and promised to shoot it rather than it should fall into a stranger's hands. 
She probably thinks that I dug the eyes out of my dead child and put glass 
ones in, etc. Well, she don't know me anyway; but you will catch fits when 
she sees you, for recommending a cold blooded murderess for nurse. Where 
does she live? 

Maggie She is the wife of old Dougall the gardener that you saw on 
the corner. I'll fix it all right. I'll tell her that I did not know the woman 
was insane, that father has just sent her to the Beauport Asylum, and 
how shocked I am, and how lucky that the child was not entrusted to her 
care. 

Smythe. I must go and get ready to start to Inverness to the Dominion 
celebration. I suppose that I will see you there. 

Maggie. Yes, father and Jennie have already gone, I am going over to 
my cousin's, they live next farm to us. I told them I might not go with 
father, and that if I did not I would be over to go with them; but for them 
not to wait later than 5 o'clock. I must call on Mrs. Livingstone on my way 
and smooth her ruffled plumage, before I go to Inverness. 

Smythe. Will you call on her today ? 

Maggie. I will go in half an hour, excuse me I must say good bye and 
go to prepare. {Exit Maggie.) 

Smythe. So! My poem in red you wanted to hire me out as a nurse, 



14 DOUGALL AND FRIEXDS 

well I am only a green, English dude; but even dudes like a little joke 
occasionally. Just a little, plain, innocent joke. Adios my vivacious dar- 
ling. We shall meet again frequently; but perhaps not at Inverness. 

SCENE III. 

Interior of Dougall's cottage Mrs. Livingstone looking gloomier than ever. 

(Enter Smyth c.) Smvthe. Good afternoon lady, pardon the intrusion, 
but are you not Mrs. Livingstone? 

Phemie. I am sir, what do ye wish ? 

Smythe. Please excuse my excited condition. I am named Smvthe and 
am the guest of Mr. AT en. Have you seen Miss Maggie today? 

Phemie. Yes the ridiculous ne'er do weel, I hae seen her tae me annoy- 
ance as usual. 

Smythe. Perhaps you do not know the sad misfortune that has befallen 
her? 

Phemie. No, has she broken some o' her bones in one o' her wiid 
escapades? 

Smythe. No, Mrs. Livingstone, if you have time I will relate the sad 
occurence. Mr. Allen brought a poor woman from Quebec. 

Phemie. I ken enough aboot that poor woman. 

Smythe. You have heard of her ? Well she was insane, in fact is yet. 
Mr. Allen did not know it. She was left alone with Miss Maggie, Mr. Allen 
and Miss Jennie having gone to Inverness. Something she said or did, so 
affected Miss Maggie that she is at this moment a raving maniac. Although 
we hope that it is only a temporary affliction. I left them conversing at 
half past three, and when her cousin and I called a few moments ago to 
take her to Inverness, we found her crouching behind the portieres in the 
back parlor raving and muttering about having seen Mrs. Thompson, kill 
her child and dig its eyes out to put in glass ones. The look of horror on 
her face would freeze alcohol. 

Phemie. Ah! Now I understand, poor body, I thought she was playing 
one o' her pranks on me, but the poor lass, the poor lass. 

Smythe. As I said she was raving and repeating the horrible things she 
had seen. The woman Thompson we could not find anywhere, so we just 
coaxed the poor girl to go to her room and we locked the door; but in a 
moment we heard a noise and her cousin looked in, and she was jumping 
through the window, when we got around the side of the house she was out 
of sight, and we are searching for her. You are sure she is not hidden in 
your garden ? 

Phemie. I've no seen her here poor thing; but if she does come, what 
am I tae do, she might harm me in her frenzy? 



A COMEDY BY DR. HEXRY CRAIGIE 15 

Smythe. There is the trouble. If she comes to you, which is likely you 
must humor her and get her locked up, as her relatives are all away from 
home. Now that storeroom off your kitchen would be an excellent place 
to keep her. She could not get through that window, and the ventilator 
would be so handy to feed her through. Be sure not to give her meat, or 
eggs, or anything stimulating. Nothing but dry toast, or oatmeal porridge. 
You can coax her in to show her some flowers, lock her in and keep her 
until her father returns. Good afternoon Mrs. Livingstone. 

Phemie. Good day Mr. Smythe, I hope ye will find her elsewhere, as I 
dread tae see her come here. (Exit Smythe.) 

Phemie. Poor lassie, poor wee thing. Tae think that I hae seen her 
grow up frae a bit o' a redheaded wean in the cradle till now that she has 
gane daft. Many a wild game she has played me and sae tried my temper; 
but I wad stan a hunner o' her jokes if she wad only be restored tae reason. 
The poor daft cheeld am I tae be her keeper a this night ? 

(Enter Maggie.) Maggie. Mrs. Livingstone I want to explain about 
that terrible woman, she has me nearly crazy. 

Phemie. (Aside.) Mad as she is she nearly tells the truth. Weel Mag- 
gie, come in and tell me a abjot her. (Leads her into storeroom.) Now 
wait until I get my knitting. (Phemie passes out and locks door.) I'll no 
be long just wait a bit and rest. Poor lassie I'll be glad when Jock Allen 
comes hame tae tak her awa. My! but the wild eyes o' her, the least vexa- 
tion wad make her tear me tae pieces if she could reach me. Never a wink 
o' sleep will I get this night. 

(end of act 1 ) 



ACT II. 

SCENE I. 

Banquet room of Golden Dreams Hotel, Inverness. Representatives of all nations 
around the table. 

Dougall. (Rising to respond to the toast 'Scotland".) Freends I wadna 
be here, but for Tarn Johnson; but countrymen I want tae feedTam, no tae 
blame him. I ca ye a countrymen. Yes ye are me countrymen, me foster 
countrymen; the adopted children o' the great and glorious Dominion o' 
Canada. A country glorious in a but climate. The term glorious climate 



I 6 D0VGALL AND FRIENDS 

being copyrighted by California, we canna use it. But we are glorious 
everything else. If we are not now we will be before we leave this banquet 
room. As I said, Canada is our foster mother, and although we claim dif- 
ferent countries as our birthplace; yet even as a goose broods over the little 
goslings that owe there existence tae different mothers, so we claim Canada 
as our mother. But there ends the similarity between the goslings and our- 
selves. For while the mother goose, gathers the young under her to keep 
off the rain, our mother Queen continues to reign directly over us. And 
while the goslings receive warmth frae the down on the goose, we would 
warmly approve of our old goose getting down off the throne. Now my 
foster countrymen, in response tae the toast "Scotland." The land I loe the 
best, the country closer tae me heart than me fist is (placing hand over 
heart) and ve'il no find a mon closer fisted than a Scotchman. I will speak 
o' me birthplace in comparison wi ither countries. I canna boast o' Anglo- 
Saxon blood as some o' ye hae done tonight; but I want to say, that a Celt 
needna blush tae own his race, and I am one. And in the comparing o' 
countries I will speak first o' our sister country o' Celts, Ireland. Those 
flowers before us are the emblems o' the several countries o' our nativity. 
The Shamrock is hers, I will interpret the language o' flowers. Three 
leaves has this one, Ireland leave no stone unturned tae gain home rule* 
leave bickerings between factions, leave bigotry tae ye'er enemies, and soon 
ye will find the shamrock wi the fourth most precious of all leaves self-gov- 
ernment. (Picking up bunch of roses.) England, the rose is yours, and 
true ye rose tae eminence by thorny ways; as every rose is said tae hae its 
thorn. But which rose should ye claim ? Scarcely the white, the pale sign 
o' defeat; though sometimes ye hae lost the day. Neither can ye claim it as 
the spotless badge, as a ye'er glory wasna gained by virtue. Perhaps the 
red rose suits ye better, for blood has marked ye'er entrance everywhere. 
Although the cloth o' gold wadna be amiss. Your gold has bought ye allies, 
if not freends. Now France ye'er lily, modesty itself. They say extremes 
meet, we let- France hae her lily. Now for me own, the thistle. 'Tis pretty 
but no best tae be too familiar wi, 'tis rough and rugged; only a jackass wad 
open his mouth tae attack this flower. So is a Scotchman rough on the 
exterior. The smooth, soft, slimy tongue o' flattery canna affect his open, 
candid nature. But let a neighbors' honest worth be known and Scotty's 
heart once reached, the thistly nature that stands guard about him, will stand 
as firmly up tae guard his freend. Thanking ye a kind freends, I'll no tak 
up mair o' ye'er time. We a are happy here. I wull be satisfied, if I just 
hae congenial company like this hereafter. Ye know that theosophy teaches 
that when our earthly body is worn out, our true self, called the ego, is 
allowed to go to a place o' blissful rest and enjoyment called Nirvana, there 
to remain as long, as the good we hae done on earth entitles us tae this 



A COMEDY BY DR. HENRY CRAIGIE 17 

reward. When we hae no longer any good actions tae our credit, we must 
return to earth, assume a new body, and if we lead a perfect life we go tae 
Devachen, the final place o' happiness. Freends I feel as if I were in Nir- 
vana right here, ye understand me a, I am in blissful rest. (Drops asleep.) 

Jock. Now he's at rest. Tarn Johnson has been dumb for twenty min- 
utes, what will we do with them? 

Allen. Let us have some fun with them. 

Jock. What can we do to get the most fun ? 

Zack Ferris. I have some costumes that were left by a stranded theat- 
rical company, suppose we disguise ourselves and when they sober up, we'll 
make them believe that they had shipped to a foreign port, and were kept 
drunk while on the voyage, and none of us can understand their language. 

Allen. Good enough, Zack. 

Jock. Have you any scenery ? 

Zack. Yes any amount of it, wierd and unearthly. 

}ock. Dougall spoke about having a feeling of bliss as if he were in Nir- 
vana, let us design a scene to represent Nirvana and dress ourselves to repre- 
sent Mahatmas, Adepts, etc., and when they wake we will make it pleasant 
for them. 

Zack. All right Jock. You be principal Mahatma and answer all their 
questions. 

Jock. And you be guide to show them around, and to bring them in 
when we are ready for them. Now everyone to his dress rehearsal. 

{Exit Jock and Zack, enter Jennie Allen and ladies.) Jennie. Pardon 
our intrusion gentlemen, but I am anxious about my sister. Mr. Smythe, 
you were the last to leave heme, can you tell me why she did not come? 
I thought perhaps our aunt whom we expect from Quebec, had sent a 
dispatch, and that my sister had gone to meet her at the depot, as when my 
cousin called for her she was not at home. 

Smythe. I saw her after you had left, and I understand she will be un- 
avoidably detained. But ladies prepare for Nirvana, we soon expect a 
summons there and wish you all to accompany us. To be more explicit, 
Mr. Allen, Mr. Ferris and others are preparing a scene to represent Nirvana, 
and we had better all assume disguises and help them out. {Exit all. — 
End of Scene.) 

scene; ii. : 

NIRVANA. 

Jock Allen ist Mahatma. 

Zack Ferris Herald. 

Mahatmas, Adepts &c. 

SCENE. A large garden with flowers unknown on earth. The paths paved with white 
pearl. At rear of garden a palace golden and white. At sides of garden beautiful 



10 DOUGALL AND FRIENDS 

cottages with golden roofs and pillars and white sides, in front of cottages are 
hammocks, in wich some of the inhabitants recline and read while others stroll 
through garden. At right wing is seen the Golden Gate, through which all are admit. 
ted who enter Nirvana. Inside of gate is seen interior of a cottage which is for the 
use of Dougall and Tom. 

Curtain rises showing above scene and Tain Johnson standing just 
inside a gate, Herald at gate, and ist Mahatma beside Tarn.) 

Tam. Where am I, what means this gorgeousness? 

Jock (ist Mahatma). You have just arrived in Nirvana, welcome 
brother Johnson. 

Tam. Nirvana, I've heard Dougall talk about it. I thought it was a sort 
of fairy land, or temporary Heaven, or .some wierd place; but you all seem 
like real living folks only your tailors have different fashion plates from 
ours. I suppose I'm one of you now though. (Looking at his dress which 
has been changed to suit Nirvana). This fits me just as well as it did 
the last one who wore it. In fact it fits like a blanket. Is this really 
Nirvana? You all look so rosy and human looking, that I cannot believe 
that this is a materalizing circle. 

Jock. This is Nirvana, we are not the shadowy, uncanny beings, you 
imagine us to be, but have substantial forms and material enjoyments, far 
superior to those of the earth plane. 

Tam. Indeed ! And do you diink, dance, and have county fairs and all 
amusements that a jolly crowd enjoys? 

Jock. Everything in the amusement line except the good old fashioned 
wake, we sigh for that in vain, as here there is no death. 

Tam. Well, can't you have all the accessories of the wake, minus the 
corpse, and have a tolerably jolly time? 

Jack. Yes, but the grief here must be assumed, while on earth it is real. 
Think of the scalding tears shed over the remains of an uncle, who has left 
you a nice plump pocket book. 

Tam. A sort of happy grief I would call it. Have you any occupation 
here ? 

Jock. Yes, everyone has some congenial occupation here. 

Tam. Pick out the job you want, eh ? 

Jock. Yes. 

Tam. Well, as a newcomer, I'm willing to begin low down, send me to 
the Legislature. 

Jock. There is none here, we are ungoverned except by the good in- 
fluence. You might try another place, we have heard about, where 
Legislators are acceptable, especially those who send millionaires only to 
the Senate. 

Tam. Any show on the force here for me? 



A COMEDY BY DR. HENRY CRAIGIE 19 

Jock. You mean the police. I have already told you that we need no 
guardians. 

Tam. But if there are drinks as you said? 

Jock. All palatable beverages are here. 

Tam. Then who takes care of the poor drunk, when the sun shines in 
his face when he sleeps, if there is no dear, kind cop, to take him in his 
little wagon and gather him to shelter? And who, when a merry drunk — 
one of those smart fellow its a pitv he drinks kind — has insulted everyone 
he meets and is in danger of being spanked, who steps in and moves the 
crowd along? 

Jock. Nothing, but observation will teach you our way of living. If 
drinking is your congenial occupation, which I surmise by your remarks, 
You will find no one to molest you, neither will you desire to molest anyone 
while in this realm of peace. 

Tam. Glorious Nirvana, I'm here for keeps. But, have you the papers 
to prove this, or are you the ego of Ananias. 

Jock. 'Tis as I say. (Leads him to cottage and places a tube to his 
mouth). Here is the purest of nectar beside which the potheen of Ireland 
and Bourbon of Kentucky are as benzine. 

Tam. What's nectar ? 

Jock. Taste and see. 

Tam. (Tastes.) The genuine article, how do you get it? 

Jock. The pure spirits arrive here. But my time is precious, enjoy vour 
brief sojourn among us, as your earth life does not entitle you to a great 
period here. (Jo^k leaves him in cottage. Trumpet is heard and herald 
appears at gate leading Dougall.) 

Jock. Brother, whom have you summoned to appear before us? 

Zack Ferries. (As Herald.) One named Dougall Livingstone, who has 
outlived his usefulness on earth and is here to ask your consideration. 

Jock. What has he done to entitle him to enter this home of peace 
and rest ? 

Zack. I will leave him to answer for himself. 

Jock. Who and what are you ? 

Dougall. I'm an auld Scotch gardener frae te toomhip o' Leeds, 
Dominion o' Canada. I'm a Transpirationist and one o' the elect. I was 
foreordained tae come here, if that disna suit ye, tell me sae and no 
keep me here starving wi the thirst. 

Jock. Come in. (As Dougall passes gate his earthly clothing disappears 
and the dress of Nirvana is seen on him.) 

Dougall. (Looking in astonishment at his clothes.) My'.butPhemie 
wad like this ? Fresh clothes by electricity, plain tae be seen, that there is 



20 DOUGALL AND FRIENDS 

nae use for Chinamen here. Clothing moves sae fast that dirt can't keep 
op \vi it. Ye'er no an adept are ye? (to Jock). 

Jock. I am. 

Dougall. Then ye'er awfu disappoinlin tac look at. Ye hae the manners 
and general appearance o' a langlejged, awkward, frivolous gawk, I used 
tae know; named Jock Allen, but that's neither here, nor there. They tell't 
me Tammy was here, Tarn Johnson, as good a boy as ever honored 
Nirvana by his presence. When ye talk aboot what good I hae done on 
earth, I can tell ye, Tarn and I hae saved many a lad frae ruin. 

Jock. How so Dougall ? 

Dougall. Night after night we sat in the only saloon in toon and kept 
the poor lame barkeeper busy carryin drinks tae us, sae that he couldna hae 
time tae attend tae the boys. And when we were tired sittin we reeled 
doon the only street in toon sae that the good people could point us out as 
Strang evidence in favor o' temperance. But wheie's Tammy no, the fish- 
man tell't me, he was here ? 

Jock. The fishman, whom do you mean? 

Dougall. The galoot wi the horn, he tell't me he dealt in soles; but I 
think, that flying fish wad be mair in their element here. 

Jock. Your friend is here, don't you see him, absorbing his favorite 
beverage, which I understand is also palatable to yourself Dougall. 

Dougall. What is it, mulk? 

Jock. No! No! Dougall more to your liking, whiskey. 

Dougall. Do people indulge in libations in Nirvana. 

Jock. Certainly Dougall, it would not be a place of bliss to man without 
his favorite drink, but there is no tea here, no high tea. We found, that all 
vices were extinguished here except gossip, which under the stimulating effect 
of tea we could not restrain, so we abolished tea drinking, and with it went 
some of the grandest reformers that your world ever knew. But this is 
Paradise, since gossip and scandal are wiped out. 

Dougall. Then what will our meenester do here, he'll no drink 
whiskey ? 

Jock. We have milder drinks, for instance the product of the wine press. 

Dougall. No, he'd no indulge in speerits o' any sort. 

Jock. No, will he ever object to the spirit of the religious press? Well, 
our neighbor can better accomodate him, he has some sulphur and 
soda springs on his plantation. But Dougall, we are inhospitable, join your 
friend. (Gives Dougall a tube from barrel.) 

Dougall. (Tasting and dropping tube.) Gie me a plain Hot Scotch, I 
canna assimilate this newfangled tipple. 



A COMEDY BY DR. HENRY CRAIGIE 21 

Jock. Then you sigh for other entertainments, do you enjoy the 
bagpipes? 

Dougall. They are as bairn tae me soul. 

Jock. Then pull that lever and you will be connected with Satania. 

Dougall. Satania, where is that ? 

Jock. You mortals call it Hell, Hades, Gehenna, etc., but ihe true name 
is Satania. (Dougall pulls lever and bagpipes are heard, he tries to dance the 
Highland Ming.) 

Dougall. Call Tammy. I wish the earth wad gie up Zack Ferries and 
Bill Bumside, I hae afien tell't them o' the sweet strains o' the bagpipes. Oh! 
this is Nirvana? Indeed! (Tarn comes over to Dougall.) Came on Tarn 
let us converse wi the de'il, I hae him on a slreeng. 

Tam. Come out to the pump Dougall, don't delay now, you've got them 
woise than ever, this excitement is too much for you. 

Dougall. Na! Na! Tam just leesten tae that. 

Tam. Bagpipes, but where ? 

Dougall. In Satania, I hae a telephone connection wi Satania, and a 
this chamber is an audiphone. We can sit and enjoy music and conversation 
o'er the string. A wonderfull thing this telephone. A Yankee, named 
Edison, invented it If I ever see him I'll gie him a Scotch welcome that 
will make him feel amply repaid for a his brain work. 

Tam. Is Satania in Glascow ? 

Dougall. In Glaiscow, ye duffer? no! Satania is called by the ignorant 
Hell, but we in Nirvana call it Satania, the proper name for it, so it is. Ah! 
the melody has ceased. They are conversing. (Satan's voice is heard.) 

Satan. What now, you rebellious and never contented imps ? What is 
your latest grievance ? 

Voices. Your majesty, those Scotch pipers who were killed at Quebec by 
a justly incensed people who had been obliged to listen to thein for twenty 
minutes, have been allowed to bring their horrid instruments with them and 
continually keep your subjects in misery. 

Satan. Well, children, you are not here to enjoy the touch of the gentle 
Zephyr, or listen to the song of the n'ghtingale. You are here to expiate 
your sins, and I know of no better instrument of torture than the bagpipes. 

Voices. Your majestv, we are willing to endure any reasonable torture. 
Put us into the hottest and most sulphurous flames, drive us through molten 
lead, anything but those outlandish bagpipes. 

Tam. Rough on your national music, Dougall. 

Dougall. The infernal taste o' the blackguards, Hell's tae good for 
them. 



2 2 DOUGALL AND FRIENDS 

Satan. (To pipers.) You harelegged blowhards, tune up and let me hear 
your agonizing sounds. (Pipes play.) Slop! Stop! I say you would out-satan 
me. I do not blame you imps for rebelling. By all the cursed millionaires 
of earth, whose souls are mine as surely as if locked up in yonder vault, 
my heart is touched. No longer shall you inflict my subjects, and since 
your depraved tastes prevent you from feeling the torment you inflict we 
must consign you to another torture. Guards, seize those miscreants, bear 
them back to earth, and chis shall be their doom. For six days every week 
they shall be forced to work for Andrew Carnegie, the seventh day they will 
be compelled to listen to one of the modern fashionable divines expound the 
gospel and explain the tie that binds the poor man to the rich. They shall 
remain under this ban, until their punishment has fitted them for promotion 
to my kingdom. 

Dougall. This is no pleasant, let us drap the string and subject tagither. 

Tam. Hold on Dougall. let me start a confab — Hello Sat, old boy! 
(Calling through telephone). 

Satan. Hello up there, who is it? 

Tam. Tam Johnson of Leeds formerly of San Francisco. 

Satan. Wy Tam, my son, you belong down here, you surely won't go 
back on your best friend. 

Tam. I thought myself that I should go there, but the boys here say I 
would make it too lively, and the other guests would forget where they were. 
But old friend I'll not forget you. I've advised and invited many a one to 
go to your place. You remember when I was in San Francisco politics, we 
named our most prominent man after you: "the blind devil'". So don't 
neglect your charge, you must keep a warm place ready for him. I tell you 
all we politicians worship at your shrine. 

Satan. Excuse me now, old friend, I must say good night. I am going 
to close my gates, it is near Sunday now. Good-bye for a while. 

Tam. Adieu ! (Goes back to his tube). 

Dougall. What is that he says, is it Sunday? Ho! Mr. Adept, as I tell't 
ye I am a Transpirationist, and before I mak up my mind tae remain here, 
I want tae know, do ye keep open on the sabbath? 

Jock. Most assuredly we do, I would not deprive anyone of one day's 
enjoyment. If one worthy to be admitted knocks, he must not wait. 

Dougall. Then wi sorrow I tak me deparlure. I am one ot the most 
strict of my sect. And no matter hoo drunk I hae been Saturday night, I 
never missed church Sunday morning, even if I continued the hilarity a the 
week after. My ancestors a were strict. My father wadna open his purse 
tae gie a penny tae a beggar on Sunday. My brither wha keeps a chop- 
house wadna open an oyster on Sunday, he had them a open several days 



A COMEDY BY DR. HENRY CRAIGIE 2 3 

ahead. My grandfather was a gardener likemeself. and he never encouraged 
a flower tae open that day, and I'm fcure it watna the fault o' any o' our 
family if the little birds opened their beaks tae sing on the Sabbath, if 
we could hae stopped them we would. 

Jock. Well Dougall, we have special accommodations for Transpirationists 
over there. (A gold and white banner at left wing is raised, and a small 
black tent is seen op^n, with three men seated at a table, one writing, one 
shaking dice and one calling out names, etc) 

Jock. They close up and sing a verse or two, meanwhile we close 
our ears. 

Dougall. What are they doing now? It is Sunday already, I heard Satan 
say o'er the telephone. 

Jock. We are in a different longitude, it will not be Sunday here for 
more than an hour. Go over and join in their game, I don't understand it. 
(Dougall walks to tent.) 

Dougall. Hoo are ye freends? 

ist Transpirationist. We are well sir, how are you and who are you • 

Dougall. I'm wel thank ye. And I'm Mr. Leevingstone one o' ye'er 
sect, just arrived frae Canada. 

Allen. Welcome brother Transpirationist. 

Dougall. Hoo is the game coming out, what are the stakes? 

ist Transpirationist. Souls! 

Dougall. Oh! I see, ye are interested in the feesh market, the galoot wi 
the horn is drumming for. 

ist Transpirationist. Sir, you do not understand us. We are the 
council of election of the Tianspirationist sect. You being one of us, of 
course understand that before our birth, our doom is written. Our earthly 
fate is mapped out for us. That doom is here decided. We note the mar- 
riages of members of our sect on earth, and when a couple marry, we shake 
the dice three sixes, or three aces; their first child is saved, all other numbers 
mean damnation. 

Dougall. Don't they fool you a bunch sometimes when ye hae elected 
one, and nary a child is born tae that couple? 

Judge. In that case the election goes to the first of our sect born out of 
wedlock, so we do not lose our share of souls. 

Secret ry. (Calling names.) Robert Thompson and Janet Muir, wedded. 

Judge (shakes dice). First born of the Thopmson's damned. 
Secretary. Thomas Reid and Margaret Bogie, wedded. 
Judge (shakes). Child of the Reid's damned. 
Secretary. Andrew Smith and Agnes Burray, wedded. 
Judge. Child of the Smith's elected. 



24 DOUG ALL AND FRIENDS 

Alle.v. Thank God, one Smith for Nirvana at last, now we will adjourn, 
the Sabbath is near. (Banner is dropped). 

Tam Johnson*. (Letting go his tube and addressing Jock.) Have you 
no other amusement here? 

Jock. Yes. What countryman are you ? 

Tam. I'm a genuine Yankee. 

Jock. (Beacons to adept.) Take this man out where those men are 
leaning on the fence talking politics. Give him time to pick a nice soft 
rail to lean on, give him a jackknife and stick to whittle, put a bucket- 
ful of hard cider beside him, watch which way he faces when he begins to 
talk, and place a cuspidor sixty feet out in the lot in front of him. (Tam is 
lead out.) 

Dougall. (Returning from Transpirationist tent.) Say, Mr. Mahatma! 
I'm no such a Transpirationist as I thought I was; those fellows make me 
blood run cold an me flesh creep; where's Tammy, we dinna seem tae keep 
tagither ? I am lonesome, I left behind me the sweetest wife man ever had> 
canna I gae hame. 

Jock. Not yet, you are entitled to see more of Nirvana. I will show you 
around where your friend is, and we will return later to your cottage. 

(Exit Jock and Dougall.) 

(Enter Zack Ferties and Pierre Gregolre, dressed as mortals). 

Zack. We must get them asleep again and put them to bed, as it will 
soon be morning, and we have to end this nonsense. 

Pierre. I think zat I can hypnotizi zem, and get zem to bed, I will try. 

(Enter Tom and Dougall. Zack and Pierre hide.) 

Tam. Say Dougall I'm tired of this, I am afraid to take a chew of 
tobacco for fear of soiling my perfect linen. 

Dougall. Oh ! Tammy what wull we do, me heart is broken for the 
good old times in Leeds! 

Tam. I wish I could get the ear of one of those spiritual mediums, he 
might connect us with our friends. 

Dougall. A bosh Tammy, the spirits they show are a working for a few 
shillings a week, ye are shown the same one forye'er sister-in-law that I am 
told is my grandfather. Don't believe that those in ane world bother aboot 
those in anither. 

Tam. I'd bother darned quickly about old mother earth, if I knew how. 
Oh! Mighty John Slaker, or any other fakir, who has power to interfere, 
make our earth friends draw near. (Enter Smythe as Medium) 

Smythe. What would you wish, earth beings? 

Dougall. We want tae see Zack Ferris and Pierre Gregoire. 

Smythe. Incarnations of Gregoire and Ferris appear as denizens of earth 



A COMEDY BY DR. HENRY CRA1GIE 



2 5 



before us. (They appear from their concealment, Tom and Dougall 
highly astonished.) 

Dougall. Say Tammy, the mediums at this end work better than at our 
old home. 

Tam. Well, you see they can't go backwards so well, but in the words of 
the great Dane I'll speak to them: 'How are you boys?" 

Zack and Pierre. We are glad to see you Tam and Dougall, we thought 
you were forever lost. 

Dougall. Sae we are, we want tae get back tae earth, can ye gie us 
a lift? 

Zack and Pierre. Yes, but hurry before the Chief Mahatma seturns. 
(A sound of thunder is heard, and Zack seizes Dougall and Pierre seizes 
Tam, lights are put out and a wild stampede over obstructions, placed by 
Smythe and Jock, is made, until Tam and Dougall are tired, are mesmerized 
and put to bed. Lights are turned on; Jock, Smythe, Pierre, Zack and 
others are discovered.) 

Zack. They are soundly sleeping and will find themselves in room 37 
Golden Dreams Hotel when they awake, now friends good night. 

Jock. Good night Zack, come neighbors let us start home, we'll hear 
wonderful yarns about Dougall and Tarn's dreams, they will not wonder 
that they each dreamed the same, as neither will tell the same story twice. 

(end of act 11.) 



SCENE I. 



ACT III. 

Allen's Giove in cherry season. An opening in grove of maple and beech trees. 
Cherry trees here and there, loaded with fruit from which each person helps him- 
self or herself. A small stream of water running from a spring out of sight in woods 
down through the open space. Sloping banks of stream with long grass and 
flowers where the people sit and loll. A path leading into the deep woods farther 
back, the trees more close together in the distance, with an occasional pine tree 
mingled. At end of path dimly outlined a sugar house, not used since the Spring 
before and now surrounded by brush aud weeds. Jock, Jennie, Maggie, Sandy and 
neighbors sitting around, all are laughing. 

Jock. Well Mag. I never thought that, that skimmed milk-looking 
Englishman, could turn a joke on you that way. But we must all laugh no 
matter who the joke is on, it is a good one just the same. A diamond cut 
diamond, etc. I suppose the longer you were incarcerated, the more like a 
lunatic you felt and acted. You no doubt warmed to the subject and I war- 
rant that before sundown you impersonated the character to perfection. 
(Laughter.) Oh! I wish that I had brought Zack Ferris over to help me to 
laugh, I feel that I cannot do justice to the occasion without injury to my 
anatomy. (Holding his sides.) 

Maggie. Yes father, you can always enjoy a joke when it does not hit 
Jock Allen. 



26 DOUGALL AND FRIENDS 

Jock. Oh! I laugh at my own expense quite often, but here comes the 
semi-dyed villain, I really begin to take some interest in him, since I find 
that he is alive. {Enter Smythe.) 

Jock. Mr. Commissioner of Lunacy, you are not entitled to any fee in 
this case, as nobody ever accused the patient of being sane. 

Maggie. (To Smythe.) Wretch! You should be thrown to the fury of 
those lambs that you encountered soon after your arrival here, for your inhu- 
man conduct. 

Smythe. Come now Miss Maggie, can you not forgive me and love me the 
same as before? Believe me, I did it not in wanton ciuelty, but todeveiope the 
latent genious for tragic impersonation within you. I concealed myself 
behind the ivy which grows in front of the window which was just large 
enough for you to protrude your head through, and with a kodak, took a 
series of views of your countenance at its most expressive moments. I can 
assure you that I have a collection that runs the gamut of all the emotions, 
— unless perhaps the more tender ones. But fury, despair, grief, mortifica- 
tion, etc., are depicted on those negatives so expressively, that were Bernhardt 
to see them she would turn green with envy. By the way, envy is one of 
the emotions omitted from your catalogue. 

Maggie. So you remained to gloat over the misery of your innocent 
victim. Even that was not enough; but you must perpetuate \our vision of 
it. Well, allow me to congratulate you on your versatility. As a heavy vil- 
lain you do well. As a female impersonator you are just perfection. Let 
us exchange forgiveness. You must nevermore mix up babies and puppies, 
or entertain nervous ladies with confessions of infanticide. While I promise 
never again to study botany through a seven bv nine inch window, by the 
sweet silvery light of the moon. {Exit Jock.) 

Smythe. Speaking of botany, it is a subject, that excites more enthusiasm 
in me than any other study. Why I know every tree on your continent 
already. 

Maggie. Indeed! You are a botanist, I thought that you were an English 
dude. 

Smythe. I may have been, but at present I feel somewhat less than a 
dude. Sub-dude as it were. 

Maggie. You seem to have considerable superfluous language at your 
command, and as botany is your fad, I will set you to work for the rest of 
the day to keep you from getting into misfit characters. Write a compo- 
sition of not more than two hundred words, and in it refer to ten of our trees. 
I mean a nice, connected article, not a second reader class of composition 
such as: A tree is a grown up bush. Trees has leaves, but some of them 



A COMEDY BY DR. HENRY CRAIGIE 27 

don't always have leaves. Trees has bark, so has a dog; but the bark goes 
round the tree; while the dogs go round the tree and bark. I want a 
sensible botanical effussion. 

Smythe. You want the best, I can do in two hundred words. I only, 
ask ten minutes to do it in. (Writes.) Listen to this: "Our bark was stranded 
on the beach. With ashen face I struggled from the wreck. The wind 
was piercing cold; but wrapped in fur I sallied forth. I did not pine for 
those I left behind, their element a watery grave. A fisherman stood by his 
hut. To him I told my tale. He eyed me o'er suspiciously and said: "Of 
wrecks, the yarns I've heard and read, would make a popular book. Go to 
Jones' house, his wife has breakfast ready, I cedar cooking as I came from 
town". To Mrs. Jones, my story I repeated. Her willowy form swaying 
her head she shook and said, for one shipwrecked, and weary I looked too 
spruce. Her husband coming in, I appealed to him.. He said: "Hem- 
lock the spoons up Liza, now let us pray". Then I said chestnut, and went 
on my way". 

Maggie. Did you write that? 

Smythe. Certainly, I did. You never heard it before. 

Maggie. I never did. I must show it to father, and he shall take back 
the horrid remark he made about you. 

Smythe. About me, what did he say? 

Maggie. He said, that if the heat should dry up the sap your brains 
floated in, they would rattle like dice in a box. But say Dud, come to look 
you over, you are not a bad looking biped after all. I never looked at you 
seriously before. I always took you as a joke. You have quite a head. 
Now if you would fill up a little, take a bucketful 1 of bran mash every 
morning, with a spoonful of cod liver oil in it, and get some adipose tissue 
on you. What you need is adipose. In fact you need a general mathe- 
matical treatment. Adipose, substract that eyeglass, multiply the hairs in 
your moustache. 

Smythe. And divide my attention between yourself and pa. 

Maggie. Why don't you turn your ability to some account. Write some- 
thing for the benefit of mankind, and not sit around wasting your life, 
trying to make people believe that you are an idiot, when you are really not 
half imbecile. 

Smythe. True, Miss Maggie! I should make some use of the same half 
of myself, but what shall I write? A novel or a melodrama? 

Maggie. Oh! No! No! for mercy's sake not a melodrama. Do you 
know, a melodrama always reminds me of a plate of boarding house hash, 
or a many tin es married woman. You feel, that you met before, but it 
was introduced by another name. So stereotyped are the expressions, and so 



28 D0UGALL AND FRIENDS 

similar the situations, that I always say when I attend, — as I do in order to 
please others, — well, I will sit and think of the fun I have had elsewhere, 
and I patiently wait until the fool detectives find out, that they have con- 
victed the wrong man. And I rather enjoy the suffering the wishy-washy 
seems to enjoy herself. For I feel, that it serves her right for allowing her- 
self to be coerced into marrying a brute. And when all is made right, and 
the brute killed, and her former lover comes around and asks: "Can you 
forgive me darling"? When he is the injured party, and ''Oh! Claience 
Augustus, I never, truly I never loved but thee! It was to save my father 
from ruin, I married him. My angel how could I ever doubt your" Spasms 
contoitions, pockethandkerchiefs, etc. I feel as if I would like to consign 
them both to oblivion and then blow up oblivion with dynamite. 

{Enter Jock and Miss Blair.) Jock. Sister, let me present Mr. Smythe. 
Mr. Smythe, Miss Blair, my sister-in-law. 

Smythe. Pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Blair. 

Miss Blair. I hope, I see you well, sir. 

Smythe. Miss Maggie and I were discussing melodramas and I think, 
she is too severe on them as a whole. I think, that some of them are in- 
structing as well as entertaining. And when a talented actress impersonates 
the heroine, she depicts the womanly emotions without any of that slop- 
over-style which Miss Maggie describes as enjoying her own grief, and 
which disgusts all who enjoy true art. Is it not so, Mr. Allen ? 

Jock. Melodrama has its place to fill, and many a hard, worldly man 
has been made better by having the mirror held up before him, wherein the 
reflection was not creditable to him, and he saw the point and profited 
morally by it. But many of those plays are objectionable, more than any 
other class. 

Maggie. . There are two themes that are so often harped on. The girl, 
who marries to save pa, and the wife who has a bold, bad brother, who 
sneaks around, and is seen by the husband. And when the wife is asked 
for an explanation she refuses, and two lives are wrecked. Why? Because, 
she must shield her brother. Family pride, or sisterly affection perhaps, 
she has sworn to. Even if she has, there is no oath so binding, no 
obligation so solemn that it should compel a woman to allow her husband 
to doubt her for one moment. She has no right to suffer the degradation 
of feeling that she has lost her husband's confidence. She has no right to 
indict on her husband the keenest torture that an honorable man can feel, 
on conviction of his wife's infidelity. Two people who love each other more 
than life to be separated by an oath, in direct violation of that most sacred 
obligation, before which all other oaths should be as air. Their marriage 



A COMEDY BY DR. HENRY CRAIGIE 2Q 

vow! To see such a woman held up before us as a heroine is an insult to 
our sex, a blasphemous parody on true womanhood. No, Mr. Smythe write 
something different, something novel, and show originality. 

Smythe. But Miss Maggie, even plagiarized parts may be arranged in a 
novel manner, and made quite entertaining. I have stolen a part from 
several plays and am filling my leisure time trying to make a presentable 
one act parlor entertainment. And as this is the dull season, suppose 
I finish it, and if you all think well of it we will give our neighbors a chance 
to criticise a performance of it. 

Maggie. I would like to see it, and father can't we play it at home, to 
entertain our neighbors and the volunteers now that they are in camp? 

Jock. Yes, it would be a good idea, go ahead, and I'll help you out. But 
what do you call it? 

Smythe. I might call it the crazy quilt as it will contain so many frag- 
ments, but as Miss Maggie spoke about hash, suppose we call it hash, or the 
fragments from eight tales. 

Maggie. That is good. I am impatient to begin. Mr. Smythe, will 
you please hurry, and let me read it, you will all excuse us for awhile. Good- 
bye aunt! Good-bye father and everyone! 

Smythe. Good-bye friends? 

Everyone. Good-bye, we excuse you! {Exit Smythe and Maggie.) 

Miss Blair. Jock, do you allow your daughter to take hold of a man's 
arm and walk away home with him? 

Jock. Yes Agnes, I do whot about it. 

Miss Blair. Oh! I always feel afraid of men, they are likely to put 
strange notions into girls heads. I never allow any man to talk to me 
alcne. 

Jock. That's right Agnes, if we had all been like you, there would be 
fewer divorce cases than there are, and orphan asylums would be empty, to 
say nothing about school tax being reduced. 

Miss Blair. Maggie is so free and happy and thoughtless of the world's 
ways, like her mother. I always did worry about Nellie, she believed 
everyone to be honest and truthful. I was glad to see her married to you 
Jock, and not to some smooth talking hypocrit. But are you not anxious 
about Maggie, she is so like her mother? 

Jock. No! She is like her mother, and I have not one anxious moment 
in regard to her future. Nellie's daughter can never say, or do anything 
that is not truthful, or upright. 



30 DOUGALL AND FRIENDS 

{Enter Mrs. Livingstone) Mrs. Livingstone. Good morning Miss 
Blair, good morning Mr. Allen! I just met the twa scapegraces wha played 
the outrageous tricks on me and on one anither the day ye gaed tae In- 
verness. They seem tae be as freendly as if ne'er a quarrel they had, and 
nodded lae me as blithely as if 'twas a forgotten. I bowed stiffly tae show 
them that at my time o' life, I didna relish childish pranks, although I 
canna hold frae laughin, when I think o' the innocent deviltry o' it a. 
{Exit Jock laughing.) Weel Miss Blair, hoo do you like our country 
hames and ways after a those years ? 

Miss Blair. Oh! Dear me, the people are so wild and boisterous, my 
brain is in a whirl. They come and go. without ceremony. I begin talking 
to one person, and before I complete a sentence they are half a mile avvav, 
and I have another set of listeners altogether. It is so different from home. 
And Mrs. Livingstone, I am shocked at the way young people of different 
sexes associate together, and talk and joke as if they were on equal footing. 
I'm sure they never do so in town. 

Phemie. Weel, I lived in toon meself for many years and I noticed, that 
a great many o' them associated lang enough tae get married, although 
some didna find the association sae pleasant after as before. As for equal 
footing, I dinna see that sex makes one inferior, or superior tae the ither. 
I believe in man and woman enjoying life tagether, as Langfellow says: 
"Useless one wi out the ither". But ye are a sort o' a non-union body, Miss 
Blair, while I believe in union forever. And as I say tae Dougall, when he 
is himself and sober, united we stand, but when I see him tumble under 
the influence, divided we fa. I hae lost none o' my rights by taking a man 
into life partnership. 

Miss Blair. But Mrs. Livingstone, I think it is a great mistake to let 
voung people like for instance (Maggie and that young man Smythe), be 
always talking about plays and love together. I think, Jock is too careless, 
don't you? Of course you and Mr. Livingstone have arrived at years of 
discretion, and its different, but those young people! And Maggie is quite 
pretty. I'm older than Maggie, and yet I would feel a delicacy about taking 
a young man's arm and walking with him unless he were a relative. 

Phemie. There's some truth in ye'er remarks, for instance when ye say 
ye'er older than Maggie, I believe ye. I suppose ye would feel a delicacy 
aboot taking a man's arm, but no doot if ye could get a man a tae yerself ye 
would think it a luxury and lay aside the delicacy. Ye'er nay as young as 
ye were forty-seven years ago when ye used tae hold me on ye'er knee at 
my father's hoose in Glaiscow. Of course Mr. Leevingstane and meself hae 
arrived at years o' discretion, but if memory is no unpleasant tae ye wull ye 



A COMEDY BY DR. HENRY CRAIGIE 3 I 

noo look back and see, that even we were once young, and were married 
while ye were a giddy young thing o' thirty-five, twenty-one years ago. As 
for Mr. Smythe and Maggie they are capable weel bred young folks and 
know their own business better than you, or I, or any other old woman can 
teach them. But here comes a band o' men led by your brother-in-law, 
don't fear Miss Blair I'll protect you. No man attempts any familiarity with 
me, they know better, I can keep them in their place. 

Miss Blair. So can I, Mrs. Livingstone ! I'm a chaste woman. 

Phemie. That's a right, Miss Blair, dinna run when ye'er chased, the 
men will no try very hard tae catch ye. 
[Enter Jock, Gregoire, Tarn Johnson, Burnside and Dougall.) 

Jock. Ladies! I have brought you some more good company. 

Ladies. You are welcome, gentlemen! 

Burnside. We have not long to stay as you know the volunteers are 
called out, and our Battalion has already pitched tents and No. i Co. is 
doing guard duty, but we must be there in time to take our turn. 

Miss Blair. What have the volunteers been called out for, is it not 
unusual at this time of year ? 

Burnside. We have received orders from the minister of militia to be 
ready, to answer a call to the frontier, as there are rumors of the former 
adherents of Jeff. Davis, making a raid on us. They say we ha: bored their 
runaway niggers, and furnished substitutes for those yankees who were too 
busy, or too fat to fight, and that they want a country of their own, and are 
coming to lick us and do a little governing for us. Capt. Gregoire, whit do 
you think of the threatened invasion ? 

Pierre. Oh! if zey come zey will not have Yankee shopkeepers to meet- 
,Zey will have some descendants of zos glorious French heroes who gained 
zere independence for zem, wiz ze assistance of Washington. 

Burnside. Well I guess we will keep them interested for awhile before 
we settle down to be their most obedient subjec:s. But has anyone seen my 
Lieutenant Smythe, I expected to find him here. 

Jock. Oh! Smythe has written something for our entertainment, and 
he and Maggie, and some more of them are studying for rehearsal. 

Burnside. A sort of song and dance with chaff thrown in ? 

Jock. No, I think a comedy made up of parts from several plays, or 
rather a farce. 

Dougall. A song is no so bad, Burnside. 

Jock. You'r right Dougall, old man, just favor us with a song. One of 
your old Scotch favorites with the brogue so broad that we can all sit on it. 



1,2 DOUGALL AND FRIENDS 

Dougall. No, I'm no in voice today, but no to be obstinate I'll tell ye 
a story. 

Allen. Hoots mon Dougall, ye maun seng. 

Dougall. I'll no seng I tell ye, I'll relate an anecdote. 

{Enter Smythe and Maggie) Tam. Then the mauny goat goes Dougall. 

Dougall. There were twa brithers named McKenzie in Glaiscow, wha 
like maist o' Scotch people had never been in any church but the Presby- 
terian. One Sabbath eve the dei'l led awa the twa lads, tae a melhodv 
meetin. Any o' ye wha hae been tae the Methody's know how they a chip 
in a word or twa at prayer meetin. I a'.tended a few o" them meself, and 
one night the meenister called on me tae pray. I arose an J tellt him "prav 
yerself yer paid for it." But about the boys, it was a strange tae them, and 
when the meenister called for a that wished tae be prayed for tae arise they 
sat still although a around them rose. But Bob was very much excited, and 
when the meenister called "those wha want tae escape Hell arise," he 
jumped tae his feet, and while the prayer was said he happened tae look 
around, and there was Alec, sitting a alone quite unconcerned aboot his 
future abode. Bob frantically clutched him by the hair, wi baith hands and 
bringing him tae his feet, wi a jirk, shouted: "Damn it Alec, wad ve sit 
there and gang tae Hell ?" 

Allen. Bravo Dougall! Bravo! 

Tam. That was a sort of hairbreath escape for Alec. 

Jock. Yes, if he had been baldheaded he would have been damned' 
sure. 

Smythe. What do you mean Mr. Allen, damned sure to gel a seat in 
the front row ? 

Burn. Score one for the English dude. The climate, soil and associa- 
tion in Leeds seem to develope brains, even where least expected. 

Smythe. Yes, even brainless men recognize improvement in the mental 
condition of others. 

Allen. Smythe forever! Give us a story Lieutenant. 

Smythe. Pardon me, I have been exhausting my brain power on hash. 

Allen. On hash, have you been living on hash very long? 

Smythe. No! I mean my farce of that name. I will call on Capt. Gre- 
goire, who is the most fascinating story teller in Canada. 

Allen. Captain, a story! A story! 

Burnside. Yes, Captain! Tell us one of those about when you were a 
little boy, and the wolves and bears were as numerous as trees. 



A COMEDY BY DR. HEXRY CRAIGIE 



33 



Pierre. Bon, my friends! I will tell one of ze sorrowful tales of my 
granuncle. "His fazer was ze first white man in Trois Riviere. My gran- 
fazer and my granuncle were ze only children in ze family. Zev were ze 
fearless hunter and trappee. Like ze Hiawatha, zey could almost persuade 
ze mink, ze black fox and ze otter to give zere furto zem. One winter, my 
granfazer and my granuncle were away from home for four days. Zev 
separate to look for Caribou on ze different branch of ze river. When zev 
had been some hours apart, my granuncle hear terrible cries for help. He 
run so fast as never before, and where ze brush was most thick, he see a 
man fall and five large hungry wolf pounce on him. He had run until ze 
brush trip him and was now at ze mercy of ze wolf. As you know, in zose 
times zere were no breechloading rifle. My granuncle have ze flintlock and 
it take half minute to load. He fire at wolf which at man's throat. It drop 
dead. He load and fire again, and one more he keel. Ze sight seeken 
him, he see ze heart torn out and ze tree wolf fight for it. He load and 
fire once more, one more wolf fall, and zen the other two drop and rise 
again and zen fall and kick, while he load again zen zey lie still. He not 
understand, tie heard of possum, but never see wolf play dead when not 
dead so he cautiously steal up, close, and zere lie ze five wolf all dead. Tree 
of zem with bleeding bullet wounds, and ze other two swoolen to enormous 
size and showing all ze symptoms of poison, but no bullet wounds. He 
search ze man's pockets he found zat he was a money lender, what you call 
ze usurer, from Quebec, his name was Fisk, his card read A. Fisk. Ze two 
wolf had eaten his heart ze were dead by poison". 

Jock. A strange sad story, but of course it is true, Pierre? 

Pierre. Yes, it is true and sad! 

Burnside. Too bad, the wolves did not search his pockets, and find out 
who he was, they could have escaped. 

Dougall. I dinna ken which I wad rather be in the clutches of, a 
usurer, a shark, or a wolf? 

Jock. God forbid, Dougall ! that your ample form should ever be em- 
braced by either. 

Pierre. Neighbors' I must to duty. Dougall, our companv takes its 
turn in an hour, you must be in uniform. 

Burnside. I'll go now too, but Smythe you need not hurry, I'll see 
to our company. Adieu! 

Smythe. I'll be there to relieve you by 8 o'clock. 

Phemie. I think we might all gang wi ye. [Exit all, except Smythe ana 
Maggie with Jennie and Miss Blair, and Sandy in background.) 



34 DOL'GALL AND FRIENDS 

Maggie. So Mr. Smythe, you are going to the war. 

Smythe. I don't expect any war, we are only camping, to be in readiness 
in case of need. 

Maggie. But there may be war? 

Smythe. Yes, there may. Of course I hope there will be. It will give 
us a chance to show our heroism if we have any. 

Maggie. But think of the misery that is caused in so many homes, by 
cruel war, that a few may win glory. 

Smythe. I do pity the wives and children of those who fall in battle. 

Maggie. There are others who also surfer. 

Smythe. Yes, a mother feels the loss of a son. 

Maggie. And even if she has neither son, nor brother, every woman, 
must feel that it is terrible to have someone she used to know killed in 
battle. 

Smythe. Even a friend, perhaps one more than a friend, yet not a 
brother, Miss Maggie, I am happy to think that you feel so tenderly for us, 
that you would not wish to think of even me being killed. 

Maggie. Oh! I did not mean you, I am so sorry that others have to go, 
I really, I — I would not mind it so much if no one, but you were killed. 
Oh! I — I don't exactly mean that, I mean that 1 hope no one will 
be killed. 

Smythe. But dear Maggie, you say every woman must feel pity for those 
who go to battle, but every woman feels more for some particular one. 
Dearest Maggie! May I hope that I will be that one, that you think of with 
something more than pity. Maggie, I love you, I have faults, and peculia- 
rities, but my aim will be to lead a more useful life, and to make you 
happy if you will be my wife, will you help me to do better? 

Maggie. I have been happy all my life, even before I knew you; but I 
would not know where to look for happiness again, if you were gone from 
me forever, {Exit Maggie and Smythe.) 

Sandy. (Who has heard part of Smythe's and Maggie's conversation.) Miss 
Blair, ye hae no men folks, hoo wad ye like tae adopt me ? 

Miss Blair. (To Jennie.) Good gracious, the impertinence of the man 
(to Sandy) Sir, 1 do not wish to adopt anyone, and you certainly are too old 
to be my son. 

Sandy. Weel ye seem sae lonely and antiquated looking that I just 
wanted tae help ye out, I'll marry ye if ye like, wad that please ye belter? 
I'm willing tae sacrifice meself for ye'cr benefit 

Miss Blair. Sir, I want neither you nor your impertinence. 

Sandy. Thank ye mam, but I helped ye anyway. Ye can always tell that 
ye had an offer o' marriage and are no single frae necessity. 



A COMEDY BY DR. HENRY CRAIGIE 35 

Miss Blair. Did you ever hear such insulting language, please call your 
father, Jennie. 

Jennie. Don't mind him auntie, he is only a poor half-witted fellow. 
Sandy. She might hae know that nane, but an idiot wad hae made the 

offer, I did. 

(end oe scene.) 

SCT^NF II 

Camp of 55th Battalion. At right of foreground, entrance to camp. Officers' quar- 
ters in the rear of right wing. Tents of each Company in rows on either side of an 
opening, or street running whole length of camp from front centre to extreme 
back ground. No. 1 Company in front row. Public highway running in front 
of camp. 

(Enter sergeant and drummer J 'rom their tents and pass out unto 
highway. They stop and three taps are given on drum.) 

Sergeant. Know ye, Know ye all, whom it may concern ! That Lieutenant 
Colonel King will not be held responsible for any debts contracted by the 
officers, or men of the 55th Battalion God save the Queen'. (They proceed 
out of sight and are heard repeating.) 

(First tent in Company No. 1 with flaps wide open, in it are seen six men 
just finishing rations. Officer of the day seen in distance on his rounds) 

First Man in Tent. This grub is not fit for a dog, much less a christian 
soldier! 

Second Man. I don't know of any christian in this tent, but the feed is 
damnable. 

Third Man. This meat is from under the yoke of old Bailey's oxen, that 
barely escaped dying of old age. 

Fourth Man. The potatoes are as juicy as peaches, only the flavor is 
different! 

Fifth Man. The tea seems to be a mixture of cabbage leaves and worm- 
wood, they might have put a few tobacco leaves into it to add to the flavor. 

Sixth Man. And the greasy cook washes the dishes in the soup. 

Allen. This style of living is worse than hell. 

Officer of Day. (Looking into their tent.) Are you comfortably fixed, 
soldiers? 

Allen. Yes, Sir! 

Oeficer of Day. Have you any complaints to make? 

Allen. No, Sir! (Bugle sounds, "lights out". Sentries relieved and 
Dougall placed on guard at entrance.) 

Corporal of Guard. Private Livingstone, do you perfectly understand 
your duty? 

Dougall. Weel, I think so, but ye might freshen me memory if you will. 



36 DOUGALL AND FRIENDS 

Corporal. You ate to guard this entrance, and see that none pass 
without giving the countersign. You are to recognize no one. Should one 
person approach, you shall demand "who comes here?" If the person an- 
swers "a friend", you shall say "advance friend, and gi\e the countersign", 
at the same time bringing your rifle to charge and keeping them at the 
point of the bayonet, until word is given. Should more than one approach, 
and say, friends, you shall call "halt, friends! advance one and give the 
countersign". The word is Beard?>ley. 

Dougall. Thanks, Corporal, I'll watch o'er ye as if ye were guarded 
by angels. 

Corporal. See to it private Livingstone that you do. Remember we 
are before the enemy and neglect of duty means death. 

{Enter Sandy Burnside. Exit Corporal.} 

Dougall. Halt! wha comes there? 

Sandy. (Trying to pass.) It's me Maister Leevingstane only Sawnie, wi 
a few strawberries, the Missis sent o'er tae ye. And a nice boiled chicken 
for Captain Burnside, she thought he would be sair disgusted wi camp food. 

Dougall. Advance and gie the countersign! (Sandy advances and offers 
berries.) 

Dougall. Gie the countersign! 

Sandy. I kenna what ye mean unless the berries, the chicken is no for 
ye. I am gaen awa in tae the Captain's tent wi it, as the Mrs. bade me 
deliver it meself, and wait for the platter. (Lays down plate of berries and 
starts past Dougall.) 

Dougall. Stan back, or I maun fire on ye. Do ye no understan 
meeletary rules, none can pass weout the word (takes berries inside of gate) 
gang awa hame and don't compel me tae pit a hole through ye wi this. 

Sandy. I'll gang awa this minute and tell the Missis, she maun come 
hersel as ye hae one o' yer tantrums. {Exit Sandy.) 

[Enter Tarn Johnson, a little tipsy.) Dougall. Wha comes there? 

Tam. Yer friend, old robin redbreast, don't get too blind while on duty, 
don't cher know me, I'm Tomsy, Tomsy Jonan. No, I'm Johnsey Tomson, 
I got it now, Tommy Johnson. (Gets close to Dougall's bayonet.) 

Dougall. Halt! and gie the countersign! 

Tam. (Taking hold of bayonet and pushing, it aside.) Don't use such 
pointed jokes Dougall, they might separate us forever. 

Dougall. Gie the countersign! 

Tam. I tell you, it's beast'y. 

Dougall. Pass on civilian, the word's correct! 



A COMEDY BY DR. HENRY CRAIGIE 37 

Tam. (Continuing.) To keep a man starving outside of the gate and 
poking fun at him with apiece of sharpened lighteningrod. (Tam passes 
into one of the tents.) 

{Enter Col. King from his tent.) Colonel. (To Dougall.) Let me 
see your rifle Livingstone ? 

Dougall. I'm on guard Sir. 

Colonel. Is your rifle so filthy, that you dare not show it to your Colo- 
nel ? (Dougall hands him his rifle. The Colonel walks to his tent, dropping 
the rifle as he goes. Dougall non-plused looks around and realizes that he 
has committed a breach of dicipline and rushes to regain his rifle. While 
Dougall is gone from gate his wife enters and carries the chicken to Burn- 
side's tent. The Colonel is prepared for him and has a corporal and two men 
ready who start to arrest Dougall. Just as he regains his rifle, he sees two 
men pass into camp, and in his excitement fires without waiting to demand 
the countersign. One of them falls with his face in the dish of berries and 
rolls down the slope. The guard coming up arrests Dougall, and finds that 
the other two are Captains Gregoire and Burnside. Gregoire gives counter- 
sign. Burnside who is really unhurt pretends to be killed, he has noticed 
by the light of the guard's lantern that his hands are stained with strawber- 
ries after wiping his face, and thinks of a joke on Dougall ) 

Corporal. Private Livingstone, I arrest you for being absent from your 
post, and for firing on a party without challenging them. 

Burnside. A doctor! quickly comrades I'm nearly gone. (Lanterns 
turned on him and face and hands are stained red.) 

Dougall (Terribly frightened.) Good God ! They'll hae me up for 
murder. (He is led away.) 

Burnside. (To Gregoire.) Tell the Doctor and Smythe that I'm not 
hurt, but fell into a mess of berries. But let us put up a job on Dougalh 
and hold a courtmartial. Get the Colonel into it if you can, and keep 
Dougall under guard, until tc-morrow night, and we'll make a night of it at 
the armory. 

Gregoire. All right. (Corporal returns with doctor and men with 
stretcher. Burnside is carried to his tent ) 

(end of act III.) 

ACT IV. 

SCENE I. 

Jock Allen's Parlor arranged for acting Smythe's Farce. Jock. Jennie, Phetnie, 
Sandy and Neighbors all seated waiting for performance to begin. 

Neighbor. What sort of a performance is the young Englishman going 
to give us Mr. Allen? 

Jock. Oh! A sort of a farce. A little nonsense such as wise men are 
said to relish occasionally. 



38 DOUGALL AND FRIENDS 

Sandy. Is there a clown in it? 

Phemie. Na! Na! Sawnie they wilna need ye. 

Neighbor. Who are the actors? 

Jock. Smythe is Jones, an American millionaire, married to a romantic, 
middle aged lady, who is impersonated by Maggie. She falls in love with 
a celebrated explorer, who loves her money. He is represented by 
Burnside; the balance of the cast includes a child of his and two servants of 
Jones', Marth and Jackson. The explorer's name is Professor Inflatus, his 
daughter's Victoria; but here is a programme: Hash, or the Fragments of 
Eight Tales, an averted tragedy in a half act. 

(curtain rises.) 

Mrs. Jones. (Alone.) Yes he will come, 1 know that he will keep his 
promise, the darling charmer. Oh! How romantic! The dailies will be 
full of the sensation. The beautiful young wife of millionaire Jones elopes 
with the brilliant Professor Inflatus. Preferred genius and poverty to mil- 
lions and stupidity. Oh! Oh! how delightfully naughty. And when a 
lady elopes (especially a married lady) she is always young and beautiful. 
Anyway no one would think that I am forty-six. Ah! There goes the bell. 
Be still my heart, be still. Oh! what's the use of saying, be still my heart 
when you already are another's heart. He! He! It seems so queer to be 
in love. I never loved before, except jewels, dresses and money, but to love 
a real live man, makes me feel funny. I wonder does love effect everyone 
so, or do people who are attacked while very young, have a milder form 
of it. 

[Enter Professor Inflatus.) Mrs. Jones. My dear Professor. 

Professor. Dearest, Mrs. Jones. Angelina, are vou really mine? Do 
you still determine to cling to your poor, struggling Professor ? 

Mrs. Jones. More determined to cling closer and still closer, but let us 
fly without delay. Fly before my cold, unromantic husband returns. I 
have returned our adopted child to the orphanage from whence I took her, 
so that she will not interfere with our future. There must be none between 
us two, Flatie dear. 

Professor. Angie dear, I hope that you will not object to my dear little 
daughter. You know that I told you about the African King whose life I 
saved. He in gratitude gave me in marriage his eldest daughter although 
her hand was sought by the great and noble, from far and wide. Ah! she 
loved me, but death cut short our bliss. She left me one little girl, a sweet 
child just like her mother and you. I intrusted her to the care of a friend 
to take her to America and have her educated, as became a princess. I 






A COMEDY BY DR. HENRY CRAIGIE 39 

received notice from my attorney in New York that my friend had died and 
that my child was in an orphan asylum. 1 wrote to him to find a suitable 
home for her, until I was able to complete my explorations and return to her. 
When able I came to America. Judge of my dismay when the lawyer told 
me that on going to the asylum the manager told him that my child had 
been taken away and adopted, but where, he knew not. Not being a father, 
dear Angie, you cannot understand the anguish of one who expects shortly to 
be restored to the arms of a beloved child, and who finis that the restoration 
must be indefinitely postponed. I searched far and near, and only this 
morning received a despatch that she had been returned to the asylum. I 
rushed to the place and there was my darling, long lost Victoria. Even 
while overjoyed at the meeting, I could not help feeling mortified, to think 
that she, my child and the daughter of a princess, should be a foundling. 
Ohi Angie dear, she is a paragon, this offspring of royal blood on its 
maternal side and brains on the paternal. 

Mrs. Jones. Yes! Yes! Flatie dear, but — but you see this is so new to 
me, don't introduce her now, not so suddenly. Please don't spring this off- 
spring on me until I have cultivated your acquaintance a little more. You 
see dearest I prefer to begin married life childless. 

Marth. (Rushing in.) Master be comin, and he do look jest as you 
look when ye'er not fixed for company, powerful, nasty snarlin like. I 
reckon he ain'c agreein wif himself dis mornin. 

Mrs. Jones. Fly Flatie! Fly! or all is lost. Let him not find you here. 
Oh! fly! 

{Enter Jo ties.) Jones. Madam, this is not fly-time. (To Inflatus.) 
Professor, does Mrs. Jones take you for a kite that she wants to fly you ! 
(To Mrs. Jones.) Madam, where is our child, the sole fruit of our union? 
I hear, that you have caused her to be stolen. Give me back, my child! 

Mrs. Jones. Your child? Fruit of our union! Well, Mister verdant 
Jones, she may be your child, but she is the fruit ot a foundling asylum, and 
she was too fresh for this house, so I sent her back to mature. Go and get 
her if you want her, she is no child of mine. 

Tones. Woman have you no shame. Do you brazenly declare that you 
are not the mother of my child, that you have been unfaithful to me, and that 
my daughter is not yours? 

Mrs. Jones. I tell you, I took her from an orphanage, while you were 
in Europe, and on your return presented her to you as our child. If you 
knevv as much about children as you do about dollars, you would have 
known that I could not have manufactured a six year old child in twenty 
months. 



40 DOUG ALL AXD FRIENDS 

Jones. That settles it. I want a divorce, one with a quick fuse to it. I 
want you to be off in twenty minutes. Pack your Saratoga, and be ready to 
leave this house when I return. [Exit Jones. A childish voice heard from 
adjoining room. Oh! papa! papa! Are they killing you? Let me come 
in, what are they doing to you, papa ?) 

Mrs. Jones. Who is it, whose child is that ? 

Professor. Pardon me, dear Angie, I took the liberty of bringing my 
little darling and leaving her in care of your servants, until I should gently 
break the news to you. 

Voice. Papa, speak to me, speak, who is with you? 

Professor. Hush child! hush! I am with your stepmother. 

Mrs. Jones. Now, I am composed. You may admit the darling. 
(Professor opens door and leads in a mulatto child. Servants both follow 
looking puzzled and curious.) 

Professor. Angie dear, here is mv darling daughter Victoria. Vic- 
toria, kiss your ma. Angie, embrace our daughter. 

Mrs. Jones. (In terrible trepidation.) Horrors! Can I believe my sight. 
(Child moves back in fear and steps between the servants, they bow low be- 
fore their mistress and spread out their hands.) 

Mrs. Jones. All! All! Is dark before me now, everything seems to 
swim before me eyes. Is it a nigger that I see before me ? I'll have thee not, 
let me not see thee still, but get a move on. Avaunt and quit my sight. Out 
damned black spot, out I say! (Servants go out, Victoria following.) 

Mrs. Jones. Professor, the last one to leave this room is a nigger baby. 

Professor. You wrong me, madam, she is the descendant of an Egyptian 
princess, and of a like complexion to the glorious sorceress of the Nile, who 
lured Marc Antony with her irresistible charms. 

Mrs. Jones. Professor, you lie. That same glorious sorceress of the 
Nile is a demi-blonde, fairer than myself and with warm auburn hair. I 
saw her with these eyes. Her name is Davenport. Tell me, this child is 
not yours, say it is false. 

Professor. Madam, is it true. By the shades of night, I swear it. 

Mrs. Jones. I cannot receive this child as mine. 

Professor. If you take the papa, you must take the daughter. (He calls 
in Victoria again, and taking a wet sponge from his pocket, says: Look! 
Look! with all your eyes. I've but to touch the spot with this wet sponge 
and presto. (Removing wig and blacking from child at same time, Mrs. 
Jone's adopted child is revealed.) 



A COMEDY BY DR. HENRY CRAIGIE 4 I 

Mrs. Jones. My own, my short lost child ! (Jones rushes in.) 

Jones. Here is the divorce madam, now ex-Missis Jones begone. I can- 
not without risk to my reputation, remain under the same roof with a grass 
widow. (Looking at Inflatus.) Why, is this man still here? 

Professor. I came to restore your child to your loving arms and home. 

Victoria. He said, he was my pa and that he was taking me to my nea- 
mamma, and that we would fly across the ocean like ducks. And he left 
me with the colored genty in the kitchen, and came in here and I listened 
at the door, and heard him making love. Oh! such sweet scented love. 
And I thought, what a nice mamma he is getting me, like you see in pict- 
ures, or dream about. Now he introduces me to this same old chromo, 
and I know I'll have the nightmare. 

Joxes. Brimfire and hailstones. Bring me the carver and waste-basket. 

{Enter Jackson with carver, Martha with waste-basket) 

Joxes. (To Mrs. Jones.) Woman prepare to die, thou art standing on 
thy deathbed. There's not ten years of life among the half-dozen of us. 
And when I carve, I'll divide ten minutes among you, the balance of the 
time will be for me. (All fall on their knees and beg for mercy.) 

Mrs. Jones and Professor. Oh! Spare us we love each other, let us 
depart in peace, and live happy evermore. 

Professor. Yes Jones, please spare us. Remember that as Eve was 
Adam's rib so was she yours, so would I make her mine. Nay do not carve, 
but turn your spare rib over to me. 

Mrs. Jones. Hear, gentle Jones, and if ever thou didst thy dear Angie 
love, grant our prayer, and when thy honorable lifework shall be done and 
that grim ferryman whom poets write of shall have born thv somewhat pure 
spirit where dollars are not worth a cent, and thy manly form is laid where 
the tall spruce gum trees wave, then shall be seen two sad, heartbroken 
wanderers, every eve as shades of night and dew are falling fast, kneel on 
thy tomb, and shed a tear apiece. Need I say who those mourners will be? 
They will be Jackson and Martha, sorrowing for the fat job they lost when 
Jonesey died. But to return to ourselves. — People in love sometimes forget 
themselves. — So Professor, and I said before, we want to get married, and 
we don't believe in deathbed marriages, so spare us. Do you hear me? 
Drop that knife Jones, before I forget that I am not still your wife, for if I 
do you'll be a sadder man. 

Joxes. (Dropping knife.) Are you both really in earnest about getting 
married? 

Both Yes, we are. 

Jones. (Taking a hand of each.) Angie, will you take this galoot to be 
your awful husband ? 



4 2 DOUGALL AND FRIEXDS 

Mrs. Jones. I will! 

Jones. Will you take this young lady to be etc., Professor ? 

Professor. I will! 

Jones. (Letting go hands.) Well, I'll be blessed, I thought that you 
two were better acquainted. Have you ever considered the fact, that a 
divorce co.-ts from $7^ to $500 according to the conscience of the judge ? 

Both. We have! 

Jones. Have either of you ever been married before? 

Both. Yes, both of us frequently ! 

Jones. Don't you know that from time immemorial it has been the 
custom in all well regulated families for children to follow, more or less 
soon after marriage, and that it costs money to feed and cloth children ? 

Both. We have! 

Jones. Well, you seem to have your catechism quite pat, and as long as 
you agree to marry, I think that your punishment is greater than your of- 
fense. (Placing Mrs. Jones' hand in the Professor's.) Sweets to the sweet. 
I thought, 1 should have strewn this floor with corpses, and not that I should 
grace a marriage feast. (Curtain drops, and Smythe and Burnside come 
among neighbors.) 

Neighbor. Well, done Mr. Smythe, you have given us a change from the 
quiet farm life. 

Jock. Neighbors and volunteers, you must all come and have some re- 
freshments with me. (Smvthe and Burnside.) Impossible for us to remain 
Mr. Allen, we must be on duty immediately. 

Smythe. (Aside to Burnside.) You to do duty as a corpse, and I to 
prosecutt your murderer. 

Jock. Too bad gentlemen, you must need a rest. But, good night! 

Smythe and Burnside. Good night all! [Exit Smythe and Burnside.) 

(end oe scene.) 

scene 11. ' 

Armory of the 55th. — Drumhead courtmartial being formed to try Dougall. 
Colonel King presiding. 

{Enter Smythe.) Colonel. Lieutenant Smythe, you have kept us wait- 
ing. The witnesses for both sides are here, as also is Captain Gregoire 
counsel for defendant. 

Smythe. I am sorry Colonel, to delay proceedings, but I am now ready 
to attend to the prosecution. 

Colonel. Private Livingstone, you are charged with the crime of having 
left your post, while on sentry duty. Are you guilty, or not guilty? 

Dougall. I'll leave that for the lawyers to decide, let them fight it out. 

Colonel. You are also charged with the murder of Captain Burnside. 
Are you guilty, or not guilty? 



A COMEDY BY DR. HENRY CRAIGIE 43 

Dougall. If I killed him, I am sorry, but a the fighting was left to me. 
I haed tae defend the camp. For a man o' my shape its easier tae shoot 
than run away. 

Colonel. Let the trial proceed. 

Smythe. Mr. President and gentlemen! I will prove that this man was 
not only absent from his post, but that he committed a cold blooded, pre- 
meditated murder, the cause of which was unfounded jealousy. Take 
the stand, please. (To civilian.) Where were you about ten o'clock last 
night ? 

Civilian. I was passing the camp gate, sir. 

Smythe. Were you alone ? 

Civilian. No, sir, I was with that man. (Pointing to another civilian.) 

Smythe. Was the entrance guarded ? 

Civilian. It was ! 

Smythe. By whom ! 

Civilian. By the prisoner Dougall Livingstone, sir! 

Smythe. Was he alone? 

Civilian. No, sir, he was in earnest conversation with Sandy Black, his 
half-witted man. 

Smythe. Did you take any notice of their actions or conversation? 

Civilian. I could not help hearing part of what they said. I heard 
Sandy tell Dougall that the Missis was at Captain Burnside's tent, and he 
wanted to go in and bring her home; but Dougall told him to go home 
about his business. I strolled on past the bridge with my friend, and we 
turned and walked back home. As we passed the gate, I noticed, that there 
was no sentry. I wondred why and looked inside. I saw Dougall with 
his rifle in his hand, sneaking among the officers' tents, I watched him, and 
at the same time saw a woman come out of one of them, and leave the 
ground. 

Smythe. Did you recognize the woman ? 

Civilian. I did not, sir, but I had read about Jefferson Davis escaping, 
while dressed as a woman, and I thought it might be he as a spy among us. 
I was just going to give the alarm, when I saw Captains Gregoire and Burn- 
side enter the gate, and Dougall deliberately aimed at Captain Burnside, 
and shot him. I saw him fall and attempt to rise. Just then a corporal 
and two men came up with lanterns, and as Captain Burnside fell again, I 
saw his face covered with blood. The corporal arrested Dougall. 

Smythe. Are you sure that the prisoner deliberately aimed at Captain 
Burnside ? 

Civilian. As sure as a preacher is of Heaven. 
Smythe. Did he not challenge them before firing? 



44 DOUGALL AND FRIENDS 

Civilian. He did not. 

Sm\the. That will do! 

Dougall. The man's a lear, Sawnie tell't me nae such thing. Beside — 

Colonel. Silence prisoner! 

Smythe. (To second civilian.) Take the stand. Were you with this 
man last night ? 

Second Civilian. I was. 

Smythe. Did you see and hear all that he has testified to ? 

Second Civilian. I did, all. 

Smythe. Anything more than he has told? 

Second Civilian. Yes, I recognized the woman we saw leave the tent. 

Smythe. Who was she ? 

Second Civilian. Mrs. Livingstone. 

Smythe. That will suffice, call Tam Johnson. (Johnson, takes the 
stand.) 

Smythe. Mr. Johnson, you have been acquainted with the prisoner for 
a long time, have you not? 

Tam. Yes, sir. I am sorry to say I have. 

Dougall. Damn his impudence. 

Colonel. Silence, prisoner! 

Smythe. Did he ever show any dislike for deceased, or make any threats? 

Tam. Not direct threats. You know, Dougall is a crafty, cautious man. 
But when he had two or three bottles of old Scotch aboard, he used to 
mutter about revenge, and that he would like to go deer-shooting and Burn- 
side would be welcome with the party, and that accidents often happen in 
hunting parties. 

Smythe. Did Dougall and Missis Livingstone ever quarrel to your 
knowledge ? 

Tam. Time and again I've seen fearful family rows between them. I 
always tried -to get away an J not witness them, but chivalry often compelled 
me to interfere. 

Smythe. Which of them usually seemed to be the aggressor ? 

Tam. Invariably Dougall. You may not knowit, but Mrs. Livingstone 
is as peaceful as a dove and as gentle as the dew from heaven. She bore 
his jealous brutality like a saint. Many a time I've had to knock him sense- 
less with a spade, before I could make him let go his hold on her delicate 
throat. 

Dougall. Gie me, me gun for just one minute and you can hang me a 
day to-morrow. Just let me get one crack at his dirty black lean heart. 

Colonel. Silence prisoner, we will give you time to talk soon. 

Smythe. Had Dougall any foundation for his jealousy ? 



A COMEDY BY DR. HENRY CRAIGIE 45 

Tam. None whatever. She had a dislike for men's society and he told 
me himself that they were married three weeks before she would kiss him. 

Smythe. That only shows the lady's good taste. You can go Johnson. 
Call the corporal. (Coporal takes the stand.) 

Smythe. Coporal, when you arrested Dougall did you search him. 

Corporal. I did and found that all the cartridges in his pouch were 
blanks, such as we use during skirmish. 

Smythe. Where could he have gotten the ball cartridge that killed Cap- 
tain Burnside ? 

Corporal. There were two cartridges missing from a belt in Colonel 
King's tent. In Dougall's vest pocket we found one. The shell of the 
other was in his rifle. 

Smythe. That is all. That ends the evidence for the prosecution. 

Colonel. Captain Gregoire you have not cross-examined the prosecut- 
ing witnesses. You will now call witnesses for the defense. 

Gregoire. Mr. President, I have no witnesses. I have not question ze 
witness for ze prosecute, because zey have told all I wish to know. We 
will proceed wiz ze arguments, if it please ze court. 

Colonel. Lieutenant Smythe, in military affairs we must be brief. 
Remember you are not an embryo attorney enamored of the sound of your 
own voice, neither are you a shyster politician wasting the court's time and 
the people's money while you try to please the rabble and gain a few votes 
for future use. You will have fifteen minutes in which to make your argu- 
ment. Please proceed. 

Smythe. Mr. President and gentlemen of this court! You have heard the 
evidence of those honest witnesses. 

(Dougall. Honest scoundrels.) 

Smythe. It is scarcely necessary for me to point out to you the facts which 
prove this man to be a felonious, wilfull and malicious murderer. Not only do 
my tender years cause me to feel regret at being obliged to speak the words, 
which though true, convict a fellow-man of crime, but my disposition is so 
gentle, my heart so soft that I fain would believe all men better than they are. 
I feel the greatest repugnance against sending this man to the gallows which 
I know he richly deserves, but society demands, that I as well as you, must 
do my duty. It has been shown to you gentlemen that this prisoner has 
most cruelly treated his amiabie wife. 

Dougall. Look here Colonel, this is gaen too far. I dinna object tae 
death in any shape, but I want a little truth mixed up in this farce. No 
one before this dude, ever accused my wife of being amiable and I defy 
him to prove it. 

Colonel. Silence prisoner. 



46 DOUGALL AND FRIENDS 

Smythe. It has been shown how he brutally chocked of her wind and 
stopped her gentle voice. 

Dougall. Confoond the idiot I'm no married tae Annie Laurie, nor 
Mary o' Argyle. 

Colonel. Silence Dougall, or I'll fine you for contempt of court. 

Dougall. Colonel will ye grant me one favor? 

Colonel. What is it Dougall ? 

Dougall. Hang me first and then let that infernal jackdaw gae on wi 
his chatter. 

Colonel. Sorry Dougall, but can't accomodate you. We don't want to 
hang you and are letting this Lieutenant talk you to death. 

Dougall. (Sings.) "Ah! I hae tried tae rest me deep in the quiet 
grave." (Verdi.) 

Colonel. That will do Dougall. 

Smythe. Oh! heimagines himself a swan and is singing his death song. 

Colonel. I think he is trying to exasperate us, and get us to hang him in 
order that he may escape your apparently endless harangue. 

Smythe. Thanks Colonel, but as I was saying, his brutal treatment of his 
wife and his ungrounded suspicions of her show the diabolical instinct of the 
man. In brief, his evil mind imagines his wife and Burnside to be in love. 
He allows the lady to pass him while he is on guard, knowing that she is 
only carrying a boiled chicken to the Captain. But he thinks others will see 
her and testiy to her infidelity and acquit him of murder. Observe how he 
sneaks into the Colonel's tent, and steals two cartridges, and replaces them 
with blanks. So far his cunning stood by him. But his eagerness overcame 
his craftiness, and although he might have challenged and fired simultan- 
eously, he forgot all but murdei. He even forgot to throw away the unused 
cartridge which was found in his pocket and proved pre-meditation. Gen- 
tlemen I have done my duty, I have showed you the guilt of this person. 
It is for you to pronounce his punishment. I am sorry that burning slowly 
at the stake is no longer popular. 

Colonel. The prisoner is guilty. I will listen to suggestions that may 
be made in regard to punishment, beginning with the junior officers. En- 
sign Hamilton, what do you offer in the way of punishment for this prisoner? 

Ensign. Mr. President, I would suggest hanging as the most simple and 
efficacious way of disposing of this obnoxious person. 

Colonel. Lieutenant Brown, we will listen to you. 

Brown. Mr. President, hanging is not fit for a soldier, I would suggest 
five hundred lashes a day for a year. 



A COMEDY BY DR. HENRY CRAIGIE 47 

Colonel. Lieutenant Stevens, what is your suggestion ? 

Stevens. Mr. President, the punishments mentioned are indeed cruel; but 
recognizing the enormity of his crime, I will go them one better. I would 
suggest depriving him of whiskey for six hours. 

Gregoire. (jumping up suddenly.) I have been apoint to defend ze 
prisonaire, why do you not leesten to me betore you condemn him ? 

Colonel. I had supposed Captain Gregoire, that you would scarcely care 
to waste your breath in defense of such an unmitigated scoundrel, and in 
order not to embarass you, 1 did not call for your defense. 

Gregoire. Colonel it is my duty, and I will prove him innocent. 

Colonel. Proceed Captain. You have fifteen minutes. 

Gregoire. Mister President and gentlemen! Before calling the prisoner 
to speak for himself I wish to make my argument for the defense. 1 think 
zat it is better so. I will prove, zat ze prisonaire shall not be pronounced giltee 
for many reasons. First: I will show, zat ze murdare was not premeditate. 
Second: Zat ze prisonaire was and is insane. Third: Zat ze killing was 
justifiable. Fourth: Zat it was not DougalPs bullet zat struck ze Captain, 
and if none of zose grounds stick, I will prove by ze ivilliboy zat Dougall 
was asleep behind ze barn of Bill M'Ginnis, and dead drunk for two hours 
previous to, and during ze time of ze killing. Zat it was not premeditate, I 
can swear because Dougall himself told me so not more zan ten minutes 
ago. So, zat point is nailed. Zat he is insane I will leave to any sane man 
among you, to judge by his actions since his residence in Leeds. Look at 
him now, see ze maniacal glare in his eye, like ze wolf. See zat idiotic 
flourish of his arms. Note ze hanging jaw and frothing mouth, like ze dog 
that is mad. Gentlemen, I appeal to your common sense, did you ever see 
a sane man who would eat until he so disfigure himself zat he look so 
shapeless, like ze disgusting Scotch Haggis, or ze infernal Dutch schnitzel; 
as does zis most unfortunate condemned fool ? 

(Dougall swinging his arms in rage and threats.) 

Gregoire. Look at him now, he imagines himself ze windmill and zat 
Don Quixote is about to attack him. 

(Dougall stamps with both feet in anger.) 
Gregoire. Now he think he ze rock-crusher. 
(Dougall roars inarticulately.) 
Gregoire. Now he imagine he ze foghorn. 

Dougall. Lord, help ye! 

Gregoire. Now he think he Rev. J. DeVVitt Talmadge. 



4S DOUGALL AND FRIENDS 

Doi'G all. I'd like to see you at my private office. 

Grego:ke. Now he pose as Mike De Young. Gentlemens! (Wiping 
tears from his cheeks.) Would you tarnish ze glory of our country by put. 
ting to death zis irresponsible idiot ? No, never shall it be said zat we a 
civilized an enlightened people, who can trace our ancestry back to the 
unfortunate exile from ze garden of Eden, never I say shall we be guilty o' 
imbuing our hands in the disgusting gore of zis untutored savage. Who 
cannot plainly speak our language, and who cannot understand ze effort I 
am making to save his filthy neck. You all remember well how twelve 
years ago, he came among us with ze long stockings and see plaid skirts, and 
minus zose articles of apparel which are considered indispensable to ze adult 
male among civilized people. I refer to ze pants of which he had none, 
just think of ze poor half-witted savage in one of our Canadian winters with 
ze mercury 40 degrees below zero; had we not in Christian charity lured him 
to ze tailor, and zere compelled him to submit to ze rules of society? 
Gentlemen, much is required from zose to whom much is given. You 
cannot expect ze same from zis misguided heathen as from one of us 
Christians. Gentleman, I am sure you will be merciful. I have finished. 

Colonel. Prisoner, you have heard the able speech in your defense, 
have you anything to say for yourself that may help to shed more light on 
your case ? 

Dougall. Mister President, I hae a request tae mak o' ye. Remove me 
safely and quickly frae the enfamous association that I hae surrounded me- 
self wi. I care nae whether it be by the Grand Trunk route, or the gallows 
route, only let it be sudden and permanent. I realize noo the vicious, un- 
holy and depraved life I hae been leevin. I acknowledge that my life while 
among ye has been enough tae prejudice all honest men against me, but 
on the fragments o' me honor I declare, I never realized till to-day the vile, 
degraded nature o' the class, I have been mixing wi. I confess my guilt, and 
leave ye tae judge, if I am fit tae dwell amang honest men and women, and 
breath the same air, as the pretty flowers. Tae the murder of Burnside, I 
plead not guilty, but tae several mair heinous offenses I plead guilty. We 
shame and humiliation, I confess that I hae eaten peasoup wi that thing 
(pointing to Gregoire) that wad delight the eye o' Darwin. Further com- 
ment is unnecessary. Professor Garner's phonograph will tell the rest in 
time. I hae also tipped the social glass wi that anatomical preparation and 
talking machine combined over there (pointing to Smythe). I hae also 
eaten pumpkin pie wi that jaundiced looking Yankee sewer rat, wha thinks 
the word honor was made tae fill up the dictionary. Happy is Burnside 
wha hae been taen beyond their reach, and happy will I be twa hours frae 
noo, e'en while ye a bend o'er me earthly remains, and count the bullet 



A COMEDY BY DR. HENRY CRAIGIE 49 

holes tae see hoo many o' the squad hae made good use o' target practice. 
E'en then I say will I be happy in the thought that never more will I see 
the members o' this infernal court. 

{Enter Bui aside.) Allen. Burnside alive, or 13 it his ghost? 

Burnside. Alive and thirsty. 

Dougall. Ye were no dead ? 

Burnside. No! Dougall, I was berried alive. 

Dougall. Buried alive, Captain, what dae ye mean ? 

Burnside. Well, sir, the blood you saw me weltering in was the straw- 
berry juice transferred from your plate to my face and hands, so you see I 
was berried. 

Allen. Hoots mon Dougall, ye'er no a murderer after a let's tak a 
drappie.. 

Smythe. Then we are to be cheated out of a hanging after all, I suppo.:e. 
What will we do about it ? 

Dougall. Gae and hang ye'er lip, like a motherless jackass. 

Colonel. Dougall, you are not guilty — of murder, but there is another 
charge against you. 

Dougall. Then play me for a son of a gun and discharge me. 

Colonel. But who will pay the costs of this court? 

Dougall. Ye presented me we that (pointing to Gregoire) as a weapon 
o' defense at the beginning o' the trial. Tak it tae me hoose and put a pair 
o' red pants on it, and sell it tae the old organ grinder and keep the change. 

Smythe. That don't go Dougall, you have escaped hanging and vet 
theoretically you are guilty and should square accounts. Mister President, 
I think that defendant should be fined. 

Colonel. Dougall, I fine you one case of brandy and three of cham- 
pagne, to be paid into court before fifteen minutes. 

Gregoire. Mister President, I move for a reduction of fine. Remember 
it is but a compromise for allowing him his life, and zet is not worth ze 
amount you fine him. Say one dozen beers, zat is about an even exchange. 

Colonel. No! Captain, the fine must be paid in full. 

Dougall. Gentlemen, I ignore the motion o' the offensive party of the 
defense, and maist cheerfully contribute tae the celebration in honor o' this 
our brither, who was dead, but is alive again. 

{Enter messenger with despatch for Colonel.) 



50 DOUGALL AND FRIENDS 

Colonel. (After reading it.) Soldiers, the war is averted. The Johnnies 
to go into voluntary exile in Europe and South America, instead of running 
our country for us. We will celebrate Dougall's new lease of life until noon 
and then strike camp. 

{Enter Phemie in tears accompanied by Maggie, Jennie. Miss Blair 
and other ladies.) 

(Phemie rushes to Dougall and throws her arms around his neck.) 

Phemie. Thev'll no hang him, my poor, my only Dougall. 

Dougall. Hoo many Dougall's wad ye like tae hae? (Phemie wiping a 
tear from her cheek with his bandana) answer me which hae ye been doing, 
drinking tae much hot Scotch, or peeling onions? 

Phemie. Neighter Dougall, neither, I'm weeping for your un.imely end. 
I feel sore tae think thatju^t when I had gotten ye tae behave in a ceevilized 
sort of manner, they are going tae tak ye'er life. Sawnie has leestened tae 
a and tell't me. Dougall ye'er no fit tae die. Surely ye didna mean tae 
shoot the Captain, ye fired at a hawk and struck him by accident. They'll 
surely no stretch ye'er neck for an accident. 

Dougall. Weel if they did stretch my neck as ye say, there would likely 
be an accident, their no going tae stretch my neck, their going tae pull my 
leg. 

Phemie. Oh! dear, is your leg out o' joint ? 

Dougall. Nae, Nae mair than your tongue is. Do ye no see Burnside 
alive o'er there. 

Maggie. Sandy told us that he was at the armory and a court was trying 
Dougall, and he listened and found that Burnside was killed and Dougall was 
to be hung for it. 

Smythe. Oh! the Captain is alive, Dougall shall live, the war is over 
and we are restored to the arms of our loved ones. (Orchestra strikes up 
Marsellahe and all sing chorus "To arms! To arms" each clasping his lady. 

Colonel. The bloodless war is over, and we will return to peaceful life. 

Dougall. Some o' us will and some tae life no sae peaceful. 

Smythe. And I have captured the only prisoner. Neighbors I invite 
you all to the wedding of the flower of Megantic to your humble and obsti- 
nate servant, not excepting this gallows bird, whose pardon 1 ask for my 
share in the little joke. (Taking Dougall's hand.) 

Burnside. Well now indeed the planet mars must have set forever. 
This is a cessation of hostilities without vengeance. You two (to Maggie 
and Smythe) who used to be as Greek and Trojan are now like two tame 
turkeys on a barnyard fence. Miss Maggie are you a voluntary accomplice 
this man in the formation of this trust ? 



A COMEDY BY DR. HENRY CRAIGIE 



5* 



Smythe. Until after the marriage ceremony I will answer for both. She 
has consented. She has learned to pity and forgive her green dude, and like 
a loyal citizen she places the red above the green. (Draws her head onto 
his shoulder.) 

Tam. But what of Dougall now he has sworn off from all his former 
associates ? 

Colonel. Yes. Dougall what will you do for company? 

Dougall. (Turning to audience.) I like those people and will so act, 
that they may consider me worthy o' their friendship. 

Phemie. Hoots mon Dougall come awa hame. Ye'll see them a again. 

END. 



Dou^all ai^dpri^d^ 



A COMEDY 



-BY 



Dr. HENRY CRAIGIE 



SAN FRANCISCO, CAL. 



R. MUNK'S Print. 

805 Mission Street, 

1884. 



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